The Meeting Of The Misunderstood
by kenandwormchanchicka
Summary: Ken has an accident (of sorts) in the Digital World. While everyone ponders his possible death, Black Wargreymon stumbles upon Ken's path and creates a bond with this human - a bond so strong it will take more than strength to break. *Chapter Six now up*
1. To His Own Devices

The Meeting of the Misunderstood  
  
Chaper 1: The Device  
  
  
It was one of those days in which Ken felt desperate, useless and depressed. The Digiworld was a constant and heavy burden on his back, one of which he wished would condemn him and get it over with. Another useless battle with a Control Spire Digimon marked the downfall of his earlier creations. Any other day, as another Control Spire fell, he would feel a sense of joy that only he could contain. But today was different. Today nothing he did made him feel as though he had affected the outcome of the Digiworld's future.   
  
Wormmon, in Stingmon form, could feel this within his partner and best friend. Even when the hundredth Control Spire downed for that day, Ken did not award Wormmon with his smile of in-depth gratitude and respect. In fact, he didn't even know that they had reached their goal for that day until Wormmon de-digivolved and was at his side, cuddling his left ankle. If Wormmon asked what was wrong, he knew Ken would not answer him. As Kaiser, Ken probably would have smacked Wormmon for asking such a demeaning question and would return to a state of pensiveness. He liked his side of Ken a lot better. Not because this Ken would never hurt him purposely, but because he was more able to help him and pry into his brain if he wanted. Today Wormmon thought that pressing the matter on such terms would be important.   
  
"Please Ken," he begged. His large eyes shimmered in such way that one passing by would think that he was about to shed tears. "Tell me your woes?" He decided intonation would be best to use in this kind of situation. It appeared to be less demanding.   
  
Ken started; apparently unaware that Wormmon was at his side once more. Then the smile of in-depth gratitude came, followed by a glint of sadness in his right eye. Wormmon rarely missed any signal, no matter how small, when Ken showed it in his eyes. He had mastered the art of reading eyes; he had no choice in the matter. Even if Ken was happy, his blank expression never once faltered. Well, maybe once or twice, as he had been around Daisuke more often and was re-learning how to show expression.   
  
This was why Wormmon loved Daisuke. He was bringing out the Ken-chan that he never thought he would have back after the Kaiser incident. More than anything, Wormmon loved to go to sleepovers with his Ken-chan and listen to the stories they told until they fell asleep. Sometimes he wondered why Daisuke's mom chased the girls away when it got late and the boys wanted to sleep. 'Why can't the girls sleep over too?' he wondered. He had no fear in asking his Ken-chan, but he never did. For some reason he had the feeling that once he knew he would wish he hadn't asked.   
  
Ken finally began to answer the question. "I don't know," was the answer. When he saw that Wormmon wasn't buying into that, he continued farther to the real reason. "I just feel unfulfilled."  
  
Wormmon thought carefully before answering. "But we destroyed one hundred Control Spires today!" he exclaimed.  
  
"Yeah," Ken said, but he didn't seem too excited. "Control Spires that I put up-"  
  
"That you were tricked into putting up," Wormmon corrected.   
  
"That I was tricked into putting up and that you knocked over, not me." Ken looked down at his shoes and lifted the leg Wormmon was clinging on to. When he brought him up to a decent height, he scooped him up into his bony arms and held his dear friend to his chest. "I want to do more."  
  
Wormmon saw another familiar glint in Ken's marvelous eyes. That's another thing he had always wanted to say to Ken, that he has marvelous eyes. But the recognizable glint in Ken's eyes was far from marvelous. In fact, it was magnificent. Ken had a problem but he had come up with a plan.   
  
"What do you have in mind?" Wormmon asked, squirming a little to get comfortable in Ken's arms and trying not to sound too eager at the same time. Ken started walking towards a tree bearing some kind of purple fruit to get his friend a snack. He picked with agility that only he could possess: one of knowing and perfect balance. Wormmon was so proud of his human friend that he just wanted to hug him to death, but didn't, for he knew that the sudden emotion and the touching would ruin this moment. He settled with sighing contentedly in the safety of Ken-chan's arms and waited patiently for a chance to eat.   
  
When Ken was satisfied with the amount of food he had picked, he sat Wormmon down in front of it and crouched to watch his friend eat. The quantity of food that went on the exterior of Wormmon's insectoid mouth was comical, so much so that Ken needed to strain himself in order to keep from laughing. Wormmon saw this most favorite emotion in his Ken-chan's eyes, and encouraged him to laugh, as the sound of his laughter made Wormmon feel great. Ken allowed only a smile though, but Wormmon knew that even a smile was progress.   
  
Then Ken began to speak of his project. "I want to create a device," he said, "that will destroy all control spires from a certain perimeter with the push of a button. If I made one for each of the Digidestined we would be out of spires in no time." And they would love him to death for it, he neglected to add.   
  
"Can you really do that?" Wormmon mumbled between bites.  
  
Ken smiled gently, and was now holding a record of smiling three times in the same day. If Wormmon glowed anymore with pride he would be a glowworm.   
  
From his pocket Ken produced a chunk of dark black rock that he had picked up when Wormmon was destroying spires. Ken explained that he could examine that piece of the spire he had obtained to find a weak point in the magnetism. From there he could manipulate that spot and distort the make-up of the entire spire. Then the spire would implode into tiny, harmless fragments that could not possibly hurt any Digimon passing by.   
  
Wormmon had noticing his bulging pocket previously, but dared not to say a word. He might eventually ask the sleep-over question someday, but this was one topic he would NOT bring up. Some time ago he had asked Ken rather loudly what was in his pocket, as it was making his pants bulge slightly. When the Digidestined turned to look, Ken placed his briefcase on his lap and blushed the deepest red Wormmon had ever seen. "I'll tell you later," he muttered shamefully and when he didn't Wormmon decided against bringing it up. The other Digidestined either cared enough not to say anything or didn't know what was going on. Wormmon had felt so bad that he wished Ken would leave him in the Digiworld so that he could cry and cry and cry. Later, at Ken's house, Ken assured him that it was okay to question when one didn't know what was off-limits. With Ken's forgiveness, the topic was dropped but not forgotten.   
  
Wormmon nuzzled his Ken-chan's leg in approval. What a great plan. This would ensure that the creation of another control spire Digimon would be impossible. He saw another side to this as well. The Digidestined would have less to hold against Ken if he took back what he'd done. Ken could improve his relationship with the Digidestined, yes, but that was not his main goal. His main goal was to save the Digiworld from the advent of general takeover and destruction, as well as to banish all evil back to the dark world from which it had emerged. He beamed up with pride at his partner. If Ken-chan could do all of that, the end of the road to forgiveness was in sight.   
  
The device his Ken-chan would make could effect him as well. Instead of Digivolving into Stingmon and manually killing control spires one by one, he could destroy several control spires at once with a push of a button. Mentally he kicked himself. 'Stupid foolish worm,' he said to his brain, 'and selfish at that!' He noticed his partner staring down at him worriedly, and before Wormmon could reassure him that he was hunky-dorry, Ken swooped him into the crook of his arm and told him that the project was for Wormmon too. He didn't like to order Wormmon around all of the time and this was the perfect solution. Also, he could join in the work and he and Wormmon would have fun during their visits to the Digital World. Ken-chan was so kind.   
  
Ken also had a plan to build a small Digihospital from an old building which he had discovered while destroying control spires. He had instantly fallen in love with the grandeur of the building, with its wide arches and Roman-style peaks. A building that beautiful would be able to sway just about anymon to the doctor. Ken himself hated doctors and hospitals but hoped this project would help him get over his intense fear. There weren't many things he was afraid of, but even the thought of a hospital made him want to pay homage to the porcelain God. His hospital would be a combination of the most beautiful architecture he could mimic and every room would have a bed with a soft, springy mattress with a quilt fashioned by hand. Of course, he would have a lot of sewing to do, but with help from his mother (who had become curious at Ken's peaking interest in quilting) and hopefully the Digidestined as well, he would eventually accomplish this. The project would be long and laborous, but well worth it.   
  
Why a hospital? Well, the Digital World had adopted plenty of information from the Real World (as the Digidestined called it, but now Ken wasn't so sure which world was more real) but for some reason neglected to adopt a hospital building. Ken had seen plenty of hurt Digimon and plenty of other Digimon that did well with treating the wounds of others'. He hoped they would all contribute to the well-being of the hospital.   
  
He had no idea what to call it. It, of course, being the hospital building. Or maybe the device as well, but a name for something like that wasn't as important. The name of the hospital had to be something significant, catching and revelant. Something that didn't take away from the immense beauty of his imaginary hospital. Wormmon had suggested they call it, "Ken-chan's hospital" and Ken amiably explained that he was no longer a shallow, big-headed moron. But if he could think of anything that did not include his name, he should inform him right away. Wormmon could not think of anything. Oh well, he could ask the Digidestined later and they could have a vote for all of the Digimon to decide that factor. For now he would keep the hospital idea to himself.  
  
Ken glanced at his watch and realized that he had just missed dinner. His mother would keep it warm for him, but he didn't want to cause any unnecessary worry. Lately he had been showing up later and later, and worrying his mother ill. The tardiness was completely unintentional, because Ken had only been rampaging after control spires and lost track of time. But how was someone to tell their parents something like that? So instead Ken made himself no excuses and marched to his room and stayed in there to punish himself. Minomon pointed out that the punishment was not necessary a relevant one for Ken, since he spent the majority of his time in his room already. His mother and father decided that they didn't want to punish their little prodigy, but should he do it again...  
  
Ken couldn't afford to stay one day away from the Digital World. There was so much to do in so little time. Yet he kept falling into the trap of time and ruining his entire plan. He had no choice but to go back home right away and lie to his parents.   
  
Minomon and Ken entered the bedroom in complete silence through the computer. Before Ken had ventured into the Digital World, he had placed the mattress from his bed before the computer, which ensured a safe, soundless landing. To put his plan into action, he dashed to the window to draw the shades and slipped on his pyjama before Minomon could cover his eyes. They both could smell supper and their little tummies growled with the anticipation of food, but they would have to stay disciplined in order for the plan to work.   
  
With the mattress back in its orginal place, Ken made a soft place by his pillow to rest Minomon. If he thought correctly, his mother checked in on him every half hour, every day, to see if he was back yet. That is, only when he wasn't at school. It was a lot better than before, when his dad had to tell her to stop checking up on him every fifteen minutes, day and night. He wondered if his mother was an insomniac.   
  
She did check up on him, right on schedule too. Politely, she knocked on the door, unwilling to catch her Ken-chan in a bad moment. Ken crawled down the ladder and prepared to put his plan into action. He double checked the mirror to make sure it really looked like he had been sleeping, then he unbolted the door and opened it for his mother.   
  
"Oh!" his mother exclaimed when she saw her son was in his jammies. "Ken, honey, you slept right through dinner."  
  
"I'm sorry mom. I shouldn't have locked the door."  
  
"Nonsense, I should have been louder. Um, I thought you weren't even home, how silly of me. Are you hungry dear?" Ken nodded viciously. "That's good! I'll get your food, I put it in the oven."  
  
Ken bowed and thanked her to show his approval. His mother scurried off to retrieve the food, pleased that her son didn't run away, as he was asleep for so long. When she returned, he took the tray of food and bowed once more as he shut the door. Before the door closed she added, "You can always have more!" then returned to her duties in the kitchen.   
  
Minomon ate one plate after another, without ever skipping a beat. Ken on the other hand, picked at his food in thought. When Minomon finally looked up from his meal, he saw that his Ken-chan wasn't eating and dashed to his side. He nudged Ken's tummy with his rounded little head, but it was like he wasn't even there. Once, a long time ago he remembered, he would not touch his Ken-chan like this - he would not dare - but now he could even yell without getting in trouble. They hadn't raised there voices at all after he was reborn which was good, but Minomon still had severe anxiety when it came to his Ken-chan. And he was noticing that Ken-chan was not emoting like the other children. Maybe it was because he was a genius and he didn't need to, but Minomon wasn't sure. All he was sure of was his love for Ken.  
  
"Ken-chan!" he called, "Eat, eat eat!"   
  
"Ohuh? Sorry, I will Minomon."  
  
"You'd better," he huffed, "I won't have you getting sick on *my* watch."  
  
Ken ate slowly, as he was still thinking hard. He would have to fix the antennae to transmit radio waves equivalent to that of the control spire piece. But were the magnetic domains in each section of the control spire the same, or did they change as you went up? He sighed and started picking at his food again. What a fool he was! He should have taken more samples when he had the chance, so that he wouldn't risk it on the one piece and then have to go back. The device could always wait until tomorrow, but he had a math test the next day and he'd been planning this for a long time.   
  
Minomon sighed; Ken was doing it again! Why did his Ken-chan have to be so stubborn? He didn't want to yell at him, but Ken was worrying him even more than usual. He thought about his nights waiting for a young Ken-chan to come and get him and how skinny he had become during his wait. Only when he found his Ken-chan had he started to eat like he was now. With all of the wandering he did as a baby, he hardly had time to eat. In fact, he remembered some kind female Digimon bringing him food along his journey. He determined that female Digimon had an instinct to care for younger Digimon. Digidestined baby Digimon were pitied most of all - they had to constantly fight for the balance of darkness and light, they were ordered around by human beings who didn't know what they were doing, and they were never rewarded by anymon for all of their efforts. Wormmon was no longer a baby when he finally met up with his Ken-chan, but he would always remember the journey he made.  
  
The course of Ken and Wormmon's relationship was planned to be a disaster ever since the idea had come about. All Digidestined are Destined from the moment of their birth. The qualities they possess are not learned - they come with the rest of the package. Ken's package was jostled at a crucial moment, and that interrupted the balance. The package that was closest, which had been Kari's, was jostled too, and ended up dragging her away from her Destiny until a crucial moment. Ken's package, it was decided, would wait until later, until the balance of the Digiworld was restored for a certain amount of time.   
  
Unbeknownst to Ken was the world's need to rid him of his brother. Had his brother been alive, an important card would not have been dealt and the balance would have wavered. Light would have taken over dark and no one would have done anything because light is perceived to be good. But the unbalance of light would have shifted the Digital World into nothingness - the planet and all of its creatures would have died. So, the darkness planned to kill off Ken's big brother, as he held the key to the entrance of the Digital World, and there was no way he was going to let Ken-chan play with it anymore.   
  
Ken himself did not remember much. He did know that everything had been done for a purpose and that Osamu was probably doing better in the afterlife than he ever would on Earth. The good memories of his brother were blocked, so that he wouldn't miss him as much. But the pain still lingered no matter how badly he thought of him.   
  
Right now Ken wasn't thinking of Osamu, he was thinking of his project. To Minomon's delight, he hurried to finished his rice, carried the cart to the kitchen for washing, then began working on the project he had so eagerly wanted to start. When he got to the desk he saw that a quarter, a dime and a small refrigerator magnet were stuck onto the piece of rock. Quickly, he fashioned a radiometer out of an old television remote control and set to work creating a frequency for the magnetic domains. Ken rarely swore when he was working a project, but this one was so important that he couldn't help but feel a little more anxious. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Minomon wince and apologized profusedly. He hadn't meant to be so impolite.   
  
By 4am, Minomon finally convinced Ken to get some rest. The only reason why he complied was because the device was finally completed. He convinced himself that even if the spire had different domains, he could still blow up a chunk of it and destroy a majority of the structure. It would be easy now to make copies for the Digidestined - in fact he had the hardware backed up on the computer. He could send it to Izzy and Izzy could download the hardware onto the D3s and...  
  
He fell asleep. Minomon relaxed when he no longer heard his Ken-chan muttering under his breath - he could only hear him breathing softly and see his chest rise up and down up and down. Before Minomon rested (he had taken naps in between and certainly wouldn't be as tired as his Ken-chan when he woke up) he sent the e-mail Ken had set up on his computer so that he wouldn't get up at night to do it himself, then hobbled over to the bed for one last look at his sleeping Ken-chan. He found a comfortable spot close to Ken's head and fell asleep with the lovely scent of Ken's hair in his nostrils.   
  
~*~  
  
Koushirou was impressed. Never in his life had he downloaded such a thorough program. The graphics were wonderful, and how he loved racing games! His computer beeped a familiar tune and Izzy paused the game to check his e-mail. It was from Ken. Koushirou wondered when he had sent it and looked at the time; 4:20am. He chuckled; the genius was an insomniac after his own heart. He wondered what the e-mail could say because Ken usually only e-mailed him if he was replying to an earlier message.   
  
Koushirou opened it up and noticed that there was a download attached. The message itself only contained a few brief instructions, but did not mention what the program was. ~Wormmon wants me to rest now~ the note explained. The note itself was grammarically correct and the spelling was, naturally, perfect. If Koushirou had seen any less, he would have had to e-mail Ken right back and ask him if he was well.   
  
The program was magnificently complicated - a pleasurable long night of work for Koushirou. Instructions directed him to fetch an old remote control of any kind (Koushirou had plenty of those - one for the television which he was too preoccupied to watch most of the time, and several more from old minature race cars which he had consistantly taken apart as a kid), some batteries, and a USB adapter for easy conversions. There were no instructions telling him *how* to write the program into the remote without a computer chip of any kind. So, for the rest of the night (he was planning to stay up all night wooing young girls on chat rooms anyway) he worked to build the chip from scratch.   
  
A few loud curses and a couple of broken remotes later, Koushirou had developed a line of chips for each of the remaining controls. Honestly, although he would never admit it to anybody, he still wasn't sure what the program did. As he read further along in the instructions, his eyes widened and his hands went to his mouth. ~Step 4 - Point it to a control spire and watch what happens~ they simply said. Excited at the prospect, he e-mailed all of the Digidestined right away and asked them to bring along any spare remote controls they could find. Purposely, he didn't say why. He wanted to keep it a secret. Besides, Ken probably wanted to be out there first destroying the Spires with his new invention. Koushirou knew not to deprive the young genius of his chance to prove that he was a good guy now and always will be. Because of Ken's hard work and dedication he already respected and forgave him. Now everyone else would *have* to change their minds. He set to work on building even more chips.   
  
~*~  
  
Chibimon looked at his clumsy little paws in disgust. ~Rats~ he thought ~ how on Earth do I get this thing to stop beeping with these pudgy paws? Daisuke is not going to be too pleased if he wakes up early on a Saturday!~ The Digivice's pulsing mail button made Chibimon's head throb. Then he thought of a quick solution to the problem; he shoved the Digivice deep into Daisuke's sock and underwear drawer, behind the pink heart boxers he received from his aunt for Christmas and ta da! No more sound. Now Chibimon had to concentrate on his next task; getting some food for his empty in-training tummy.  
  
When Daisuke finally woke up he was disasterously tardy and was welcomed at Koushirou's house by an array of unpleasant and impatient faces. He pointed and Chibimon and shouted, "It wasn't my fault!" while everyone else shook their heads. Suddenly Koushirou' s face broke out into a smile and he told Daisuke to sit down where ever he could find room. The room was filled to capacity with older and younger Digidestined, who were positioned all over the room. Mimi was absent, but she had promised to meet them in the Digital World later on - of course now she would be waiting since Daisuke was so late.  
  
"What's up guys?" Daisuke began, matching Koushirou's grin.  
  
"Nothing you can do today can spoil my mood. I have the greatest news!"   
  
"You found a way to beat Tetris?" Daisuke asked. He was sitting on the floor, cross-legged, with Chibimon on his lap. He was having fun tapping a beat with both of his index fingers on Chibimon's skull. The young boy wasn't aware that he was doing it until the little creature bit a chunk out of his hand.   
  
The group sighed impatiently, while Koushirou continued, "No, but I did make these!" He proudly held the remotes high in the air for all to see. Many Digidestined sweatdropped. "Fine, be that way. But just wait until you see what these babies can do. Miyako, would you be so kind and open the port?" Koushirou grabbed his sack of remotes and they were off into the Digital World with no clue about what Koushirou was up to. They assumed he had too many long nights.  
  
  



	2. Battle Of The Brains

A/N: Thanks to everyone for your nine reviews! I know it says two, but I reuploaded the story when I figured out that it was extremely difficult to read. I hope you enjoy this chapter, it has plenty of people in it this time: All twelve Digidestined and Black Wargreymon. Oh, and by the way, I was noticing that some people say "Blackwargreymon" all together, but I prefer it seperate. The issue never came up, but I thought that I'd mention it anyway.   
Disclaimer: See Ch. 1  
  
  
  
Chapter 2: Battle of the Brains  
  
  
Black Wargreymon stomped angrily through the thick forest. 'Where is my destiny?' he wondered. 'Surely it can't be in *this* place.' Everywhere around him Digimon scampered up trees, behind rocks and in small caves to escape this dreaded creature.They had apparently seen him eat a swarm of Marching Fishes and a Scubamon he had fished from the lake. His long claws were perfect for fishing, but the creatures could also see that they could be adapted from fishing poles to rotisery sticks. Naturally they scampered away to avoid their insides from being turned out by this faux Digimon.   
  
What they didn't know was that Black Wargreymon was more vulnerable than he looked. He was new to this world and had been lost for days while searching for his destiny. It was silly to think that a creature that could *fly* could become lost like that, but that's what he was. He didn't know it at first, but when he saw the same cave he had passed an hour before, his problem became more evident. Frustrated, tired and confused, Black Wargreymon decided that it would be best if he went inside the cave to sleep for the night. He didn't really need the shelter because unlike most Digimon he didn't get sick or need a home, instead he just felt like he did.   
  
Inside the cave was a large family of Gazimon in all different sizes. Some were sleeping, some were playing games; but all of their activities ceased when Black Wargreymon entered the room. They stared at him with wide eyes, remembering the rumors passed from Digimon to Digimon. The only being aware that these rumors were completely false was Black Wargreymon himself, who liked to keep it that way. It wasn't as though he had anyone to share his true self with anyway.   
  
Soon after Black Wargreymon's appearance, panic ensued. Gazimon flew between his legs, galloping at top speed and hoping that they wouldn't get squished by one of his massive feet. Black Wargreymon just waited for the Gazimon to clear themselves out, then made himself comfortable as if this was his home from the very start. He didn't bother himself with petty thoughts about where the Gazimon might live now - or least he tried not to. Something inside of him did feel a little guilty, but his Digimon instincts told him to push that thought aside.   
  
Soon afterwards he fell asleep, dreaming about finding his destiny. But what would happen after he found his destiny? The dreams never told him. He tossed and turned, fighting with an invisible enemy and clawing the air every now and then. His opponent was strong and he felt great even so he was about to lose the battle. The face of his opponent was hidden by the shadows of his very mind. In his dreams he always lost gratefully to his destiny and was rewarded when destiny stepped out of the shadows. Unfortunately, he always woke up then.  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
Ken woke up with a start and glanced anxiously at his alarm clock. Eight twenty-eight it read in bright red lights. That meant that Ken had plenty of time to get to the Digital World before the others. He dressed carefully, choosing an outfit that wasn't dull like his school uniform, but also was mother-approved. Truth-be-told, he hated his wardrobe and envied Daisuke's. He had vibrant and strange clothing to wear, while Ken had many dull, pastel colors. Even the pale yellow shirt he was pulling over his head at the moment had been a fight to get. His mother hated it because it was "too bright!" but Ken tolerated it because it was the only item of clothing in his entire wardrobe that wasn't a shade and also wasn't too warm to wear in the Digital World. Sometimes Ken wondered what it would be like to wear jeans, but parished the thought because boys don't think about clothes!  
  
Carefully, he scooped up the sleeping Minomon and opened the portal with his black D3. He was careful to choose an area loaded with control spires to test out his device. With him he brought a small toolbox in case he needed to make repairs and an extra remote. He sat on the ground and began to fiddle with his D3, hooking it up like he did with the remote control. It was a lot faster than making another remote, so Ken decided to stick with the D3 and left the remote with Wormmon. Quickly, he explained to Wormmon how the device worked, and then they were off.   
  
They started off in the desert, because it was loaded with control spires. When they stood before the gigantic structure, hands and paws poised before the buttons, Ken found that he just couldn't do it. It wasn't that he didn't want to get rid of the control spires, but if someone got hurt because of this, he wouldn't be able to live with himself. Especially if that someone was Wormmon.   
  
Wormmon saw the hesitation. "Ken-chan?" he inquired.  
  
Ken knit his brow, then he came to a conclusion, "I can't do it."  
  
Wormmon was about to ask why, and then it hit him. "You're scared." Ken just nodded and looked down at his invention. "Then we won't do it," Wormmon added.   
  
He looked up suddenly and stared at Wormmon with gentle eyes. Then he shifted his gaze to the control spires surrounding them. "On the count of three. One, two... three!" Human being and monster pushed their buttons simulataneously, then ran for their lives towards a young berry bush. The control spire they had been standing in front of disintigrated before their very eyes. It dissolved in the same way Wormmon had when he died, and that particular thought put tears into Ken's eyes. For a moment the two friends sat behind the bush in awe of what had just happened, because both of them didn't really expect it to work that well. Wormmon was so shocked that he didn't notice his Ken-chan wiping tears frantically from his worn eyes.   
  
"Did you see that?" Ken asked dumbly. "It actually worked." He went over to the same spot where the control spire had stood and knelt there for a long while, carressing the soil with the palm of his hand. It was as if the control spire had never existed. The soil seemed untouched although it had been rested upon for many months. Ken's plan to wipe out the existance of his former life was now one giant leap ahead.   
  
Not far from the sight was a seedling, which appeared to have been stepped on by a large Digimon passing by. Its roots were exposed like some kind of naked injury and its leaves were dangling by a thread. Ken went over to it and knelt once more, prodding it gently to an upright position. It was damaged, but it would live if Ken gave it lots of water and a good place in the soil where it could absorb lots of nutrients. He was not a gardener, but he knew that if he wasn't careful with the plant, the roots would rip and the plant could die. Working meticulously, he managed to tease the roots out of the ground and into the safety of his hand. Now to decide where to put it. He glanced around the area and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. The plant would be planted right where the control spire used to be, he decided.   
  
He dug quickly, and with the help of Wormmon the job went faster. The control spire had been located in an area with plenty of sunlight, fresh soil, and water. Ken knew that Wormmon wasn't certain about his motive in all of this, but in time he would understand.   
  
With the little seedling planted carefully into the ground, Ken was able to sit back and admire his handiwork. In his back pocket, his crest glowed with intense strength, and filled the air with a sense of being. This was how it should be. In a way, the seedling was a parody of his life. The role the seedling played was the Digital World itself. It had been trampled on by Ken and its own creatures, but now everything was trying to set itself right again.   
  
Before he left the tiny plant, he drew a picture in the soil beside the plant. He knew the picture would be destroyed in a couple of hours, and perhaps the seedling too, but this was just something he did with no reason behind it. It felt good to do some things every now and then that had absolutely no meaning.   
  
Carefully (for he was not much of an artist in his opinion) he drew a circle. In the midst of the circle he drew a crooked line. On one end of the line went a whole circle and on the other side a filled circle. The side with the whole circle had the soil turned up and blackened, and the other left the way it was. In the end it turned out to be a very poor and brown ying-yang sign. But it still held its meaning and Ken loved it nonetheless. It was time to move forward.  
  
  
~*~  
  
It was time to move forward, Black Wargreymon told himself. Dawn had broken across the valley, wooing even the dense, dark forest with light. The day was absolutely marvelous for searching one's destiny and Black Wargreymon could hardly wait to embark on his long journey. His thoughts about his dreams were constant in his mind and he was determined after each dream to reach his destiny. It was the only thing he was sure about in his life. For instance, he wasn't even sure if he had life in the first place. After all, he was built of completely inanimate objects instead of two parents who loved each other - he understood at least that much. He just knew that there were so many things that were being hidden from him.  
  
He stood and stretched, surveying his surroundings. If he ever needed the cave again, then he would know where it was. Which was a joke, because besides knowing where the cave was, he was completely lost. That was another joke, because he didn't need to know where he was supposed to be anyway - he didn't come from anywhere.   
  
Trying hard not to think too much, he set out again on his journey. He couldn't remember if he had come from the right or the left, so he just picked the path that looked the most unfamiliar to him and was on his way. It turned out that he had chosen correctly, even so both of the paths looked distinctly unfamiliar. The path that he ended up on was rugged and rocks played havok to the tender bottoms of his feet. He refused to let himself flinch, for he was a big, strong Digimon with a reputation to keep. Really a reputation was all that belonged to him in the forest.   
  
Soon he came across some evidence of intelligent life - a ragged-looking bridge crossed a deep canyon that contained some water only an ankle's height in length. Black Wargreymon could choose to fly across it had he wanted to, but he simply didn't. Instead he walked gracelessly over the worn oak wood, his large toes sticking under the boards every so often and annoying the piss out of him. He was wary that his foot would have many splinters by the time he had completed the crossing of the bridge and undoubtedly would hurt like a bitch when he walked for a long time.   
  
Midway through, the bridge snapped, sending its remains to the waters below. When the pieces of wood landed, they didn't even float, so therefore the water was more shallow than Black Wargreymon had originally assumed. Instead of carrying the wood away like it was supposed to, the water just streamed around it in circles and sometimes tumbled over the pieces of wood in an effort to keep flowing. It never occurred to Black Wargreymon that if he followed the river, it may lead him somewhere.   
  
Black Wargreymon was upset that he had to give in and fly across to the other side of the bridge. When he landed, he startled some Flymon and Roachmon out of their hiding places in the unnaturally large shrubery that surrounded the forest. He had in mind to fly after them and show them what he thought of insect-type Digimon, but he did not. The reason why were simple: number one, they would lead him too far from his destination and number two, he knew what they thought of control spire-type Digimon. Just the thought of his method of birth made his stomach quiver.   
  
He continued on his way until he approached a meadow. The smell of pollen and grass invaded and tugged at his nostrils. The area was completely vacant, as were most places when Black Wargreymon passed by. But with the absence of trees it shadowed Black Wargreymon's thoughts more than any other place he had been in. It felt truly empty.  
  
He kept on walking and erased his mind of any thoughts using techniques he had taught himself. In fact, everything he knew he had taught himself, and therefore was easily confused. When he had taught himself to think one way about one thing, it always turned out to be the opposite of what he thought. And that frustrated him to no end.   
  
The dry, pale-yellow grass scratched at his legs and he fought the urge to bend down and rid himself of the horrible itch. He was beginning to think that all nature was against him because of the way he was so unnaturally made. His legs ached, as did his arms and back, and his feet were cracked and bleeding. From previous sparring matches he had scars - little white lines - where he had been hit. It never occurred to him that when a species can heal itself, it is considered alive. In fact, a being is considered alive if it has a brain and Black Wargreymon knew he had plenty of that.   
  
As he reached the edge of the meadow, he began to hear some strange noises coming from the forest ahead. Without thinking, he ducked behind a plant that grew on the outskirts of the meadow and waited for whatever was making the noise to approach. This also gave him an opportunity to sit, but he lied to himself and said that it was not the purpose of ducking behind the bush. His purpose was to wait for the thing to travel into the woods, and then he would pounce on it and scare it half to death. Nothing more, nothing less.   
  
It was easy for Black Wargreymon to camouflage himself in the dense forest that surrounded the meadow because of his shadow colors. The two Tapirmon that were slowly approaching the middle of the field would never see him coming. Like a good hunter, he sat and waited - eavesdropping on them just because he could. When he heard what they were talking about, he completely forgot about the hunt and just listened until they left.   
  
"I can't believe it," the first one said, sounding depressed, "I just wished we weren't so easily pushed around by him."  
  
"I know," comforted the second, "but there's nothing we can do about it."  
  
"That *creature* has no remorse for anything! He thinks he can just destroy the bridge because no one will care about it. Well sure it looked like no one was using it, but it wasn't his property! I hate Black Wargreymon!"   
  
"Shh! What if he can hear you?" The second Tapirmon clapped a hoof on the first's snout. " He may be around these parts because he just destroyed the bridge a moment ago."  
  
"You're being paranoid, he's not even here. Anyway, how are we going to make another bridge for our families? Our hands are much too small. Why did we have to live on this side of the forest?"  
  
"You know very well why. It's because of the large Digimon that live on the otherside. We can't possibly defend ourselves against some Megas. Even though there is no food here for us, it's safer to live here."  
  
"Argh! I hate to feel so helpless. I wish I worked at Digitamamon's restaurant with my older brother. That way we wouldn't have to worry about food anymore."  
  
"Well that's why we're going to see them. Perhaps we can make them some kind of offer. Let's hurry!"   
  
The two troubled Digimon hurried their way through the meadow and left Black Wargreymon behind to do some serious thinking. Technically, or so his mind thought, he shouldn't give a crap about any creature except for himself. Then why did he feel this way? Why did he constantly feel guilty for his actions? Was he closer to his destiny than he thought?  
  
Destiny would have to wait another day for him, he decided. Black Wargreymon would rebuild the bridge before the two Tapirmon came back and that was final. Maybe that would help this horrible feeling of his to shut up and go away. Then, and only then, he would continue his search.   
  
  
*~*  
  
  
The rather large Digidestined task force arrived in the Digital World with a bang. Bodies were piled up on bodies and Digimon were rather squished. Yamato suggested that maybe they should have entered one at a time instead of all at once and everyone groaned because he didn't mention it earlier. They gathered themselves and helped a dazed Koushirou to his feet. Since he had gone through the portal first, all of the bodies had been on top of him. Luckily he landed in such a way that his laptop wouldn't get destroyed in the process.  
  
Shaking his head to clear his mind, Koushirou stood as steadily as he could on his two legs. Taichi and Yamato stood nearby so that in case he toppled, someone would be there to catch him. Unlike Koushirou, Taichi and Yamato had landed beside the pile because they rolled off of Koushirou's back when they landed and didn't face the same fate.   
  
Clearing his throat, Koushirou addressed his large audience. "As you can probably see I have a remote control in my hands. But, you see, it's not any ordinary control, oh no. It's something that Ken made up last night and I had to program into all of these remote controls," he gestured at the bag, "but it's worth all that trouble. I guess the best way to do this is to show you how they work. Come on!"  
  
Koushirou speed-walked to the nearest Control Spire (he hated to run) and told everyone to stay behind behind him when he pushed the button. He aimed his remote at the Spire and with a flourish, pressed the button. Nothing happened. Cursing angrily, he pressed the subborn button over and over until it broke. Maybe there was an error with the programming - surely this couldn't have been his miscalculation! Satisfied with that irrational thought, he e-mailed Ken to insist that his program was not working as it should.  
  
Meanwhile, the rest of the Digidestined still stood far back from where Koushirou was standing. They weren't afraid that whatever was supposed to happen would happen and they'd be injured, they were more worried about Koushirou's mental health. Unfortunately, none of them had any training in which could help the group to control the distressed computer whiz. He had snatched up his laptop and was typing away frantically to the unsuspecting super genius.   
  
Miyako was the first to talk. "I think I've figured out what the remotes are supposed to do," she said.  
  
"Me too," Hikari and the most of the group nodded with agreement.   
  
"Umm, could you fill me in Hikari? I'm kinda clueless," Daisuke rubbed his feverish nogan in an attempt to re-awaken the sleeping brain cells within. What he *really* wanted was for Hikari to take him through the proceedure step-by-step, and maybe to hold his hand and physically show him what she meant and...  
  
Miyako interupted his thoughts of a hidden agenda. "Big surprise there," she announced sarcastically. She flicked her hair behind her shoulder in a gesture of defiance and waited, amused, for Daisuke to think of another remark.  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?" he shouted at her.  
  
"It's supposed to mean that you're stupid!" she shouted back.   
  
"Guys, come on..." Takeru pleaded.   
  
"Stay out of this TS!"  
  
"I'm not a guy Takeru! So I can make fun of unintelligent people like Daisuke as much as I please."  
  
"Hikari," Daisuke fake-sobbed, "she keeps calling me stupid. I'm not stupid am I? Just because I don't understand it doesn't make me stupid does it?"  
  
Hikari was beginning to look very uncomfortable. "Of course not!" she exclaimed never-the-less. "Miyako-chan, you can be so mean sometimes." She shook her finger at her and place a hand on her hips. When she wasn't looking, Daisuke quickly stuck out his cookie-encrusted tongue in some kind of informal victory poise.   
  
Just then, Koushirou found his way back to the group. "Ken's coming!" he announced, "Apparently his invention works and he's just going to finish with whatever he's doing before he gets here."  
  
"What was wrong with yours?" Iori inquired.  
  
"Uh, um," he scratched the nape of his neck, "I was supposed to program it to our D3s."  
  
"Wouldn't your program work despite that?" Jyou asked, scratching his chin in thought.   
  
"It was flawed okay? That's what was wrong with it! Now leave me be!" Jyou waved his hands frantically in a gesture that implied he meant no harm to the sensitive Koushirou. The group of eleven sat down in a circle under a tree, much like they did when they were celebrating their anniversary and pondered what to do next.   
  
"I'm going to try to rewrite the program onto my Digivice," Koushirou said, then begin to type vigorously on the worn keys of his Pineapple laptop. Soon, all that could be heard from his portion of the circle was Koushirou's frantic tapping.   
  
"I suggest we play strip poker. V-mon, did you bring some cards?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
"Oh darn."  
  
Wiggling her eyebrows, Mimi suggested, "Why don't we play Truth or Dare?"  
  
"Me first!" Daisuke exclaimed. Before anyone could say anything, he went on. "Hikari, truth or dare?"  
  
"Truth."  
  
Secretly, Daisuke was hoping she would pick dare. First and foremost, he could sneak a kiss, but also he may be hurt with the answer she could give to his question, which was, "What do you think of me?"  
  
She thought carefully for a moment, but only a moment. "I think you're a very funny person, but in a good way. You're a great friend."  
  
Honestly, Daisuke didn't expect that. He blushed and thanked her, staring at his shoes and plucking the laces. She was successful enough not to hurt his feelings and she complemented him in a way that he would not be convinced that she liked him. It was brillant.  
  
For her Truth or Dare victim, she picked Sora. Sora answered the dreaded question with Dare. Hikari thought of something almost right away, and said so aloud, but tried to push the suggestion away. She was forced by the spectators and Sora herself to say it, so she took a deep breath, and did.   
  
"I dare you to," she paused and giggled, "moon some Numemon!" The crowd burst out laughing and Sora stood to attend to her task. She spotted an assortment unsuspecting Numemon nearby and charged. They seemed to be looking for something, she noted. The rest of the Digidestined followed in hot pursuit, just to make sure she did her task. Hikari's camera was more ready than it had ever been.  
  
Over in that side of the Digital World, the fun continued and the pictures were becoming wilder by the minute. On his side of the Digital World, Ken had walked a good 20 kilometers and his legs were about to fall off. Wormmon was clutched tightly in his arms, although they were beginning to feel like they would fall off too. The Control Spires were now few and far between, and Ken had to travel long distances using only his legs to aid him. When he was Kaiser he would... but he forced himself not to think of that.   
  
The Digidestined would continue to await Ken's arrival until dinner time. Afterwards, they would send out a search party, but the beloved Ken-chan would never be found.   
  
*****  
  
Whoo hoo! A cliff hanger. I know how much y'all love them. Anyway, I'm off to tape a new episode of Digimon! My fave, with Ken in Mexico.   



	3. Only To Disappear Off the Face Of The Ea...

A/N: Due to the commands of a certain individual *coughBloodThirstyDigimonFancough* and the positive feedback from most other people, I was able to finish this in two hours. Beware of the monster paragraph and for the fact that I like to use words that aren't in the dictionary. There's some action in the end of this chapter, but mostly it's about BWG and Daisuke's flashbacks.  
  
If you sue me  
Then I will counter sue  
Maybe I'll get enough money  
To buy Digimon from you  
  
(to the tune of that song that goes: We're going to the something, we're going to the fair to see the senoritas with flowers in their hair hey!)  
  
  
Chapter Three: Only To Disappear Off The Face of the Earth  
  
  
Black Wargreymon hated being mocked most of all, and this bridge was mocking him. Rebuilding turned out to be a more laborious task than he had first anticipated. In fact, this was the first job that he had ever done that required him to do some actual labor. In discovering this, he realized that he hated labor almost as much as he hated to be mocked. He wished that he could just close his eyes and think the bridge done and it would be finished magically before his eyes. That way he wouldn't need to use his clumsy hands for anything besides what they were meant for. Which was fighting.   
  
The stupid bridge, he cursed, it was now in the way of his fighting. It was just one thing after another disrupting his journey - and usually the interruptions were his own fault. He was free to roam the Digital World without anymon getting in his way, but for some reason he always found himself stopping for something idiotic. Usually he would be interrupted by his body's incessant need for food and water, which pissed him off ten-fold because he was a Control Spire Digimon and therefore wasn't real enough to need food and water. He never actually fed his body; he just sat until the feeling passed over. It never occurred to him to feed his body and therefore make himself into more of a Digimon. In many ways Black Wargreymon's brain was much like a child's - it didn't function like the brain of an older, more competent Digimon. Had he been a little smarter the bridge would have been a simpler task for him.  
  
Black Wargreymon had walked over many bridges in his life, so why was it so hard to form a mental picture of one in his mind? Finding wood for the bridge had been easy enough, so why couldn't bridge building be like finding wood? Aggravated, he plopped down onto the ground and growled quietly to himself. Why had he made a promise to build the crappy bridge anyway? Oh yeah, he remembered, it was the feeling that provoked him. If he left the bridge the way it was, it would come back to haunt him and force him to finish. That was the other thing that prolonged his journey. His "feelings". Somehow he would have to find a way to rid himself of those. But in the meantime...  
  
He set to work. In the process of his work, he lost many pieces of wood to the bottom of the canyon. He didn't understand the fact that if you laid the boards across the canyon they wouldn't stay there; they would plummet to the ground. Finally he realized that he would have to start to build the bridge by making it a little bit like a makeshift raft. Then he would attach it to the ground on the other side using big stakes.   
  
Black Wargreymon found it difficult to keep each piece of wood an equal length to the other. He wanted his bridge to be both wide and strong. Carefully, he laid each piece side by side and pinned them together. Somehow he had even figured out that he should make some concrete, but of course he didn't know that was what the substance was called. His mixture was a little bit more like clay than concrete, but it worked just as well.  
  
He tested out the length of the bridge he had made by picking it up and laying it across the canyon. It was too short and it fell between the space, startling Black Wargreymon enough for him to waver and lose his balance. He caught the bridge before it fell through, thankfully, and continued to lengthen it.   
  
By the time he was done he had splinters in his hands and his large claws looked brittle and painful. Unfortunately for Black Wargreymon, he had never heard of a nail file, so his nails continued to bother him. Still, he wasn't quite finished. He had to make sure that the bridge fit properly in the canyon this time and he had to nail it down. Sighing, he picked up the massive structure once more. This time it fit perfectly, so he secured the ends with stakes.   
  
When he had finally finished, he sat back, frowning at the new structure. Something important was missing. He thought about all of the bridges he had seen, and pondered about what was different about his. Then it came to him. Most of the bridges he had come across, although plain and terribly dangerous, had some kind of rail for a traveler to hang on to. Sometimes they made of rope, sometimes of vine, but Black Wargreymon's would be constructed with the same materials he used for the rest of the bridge - wood.   
  
The hardest part about making the rail, he found, was to make the wood for it completely smooth. If someone were to touch an unshaved piece of wood, his hand would burn with splinters. Black Wargreymon wanted his bridge to be just like him - the perfect being, able to withhold anything and to strengthen with every battle. Most of all, never to need any charity from anyone else and to stand-alone in a world full of conversing beings. So, he used his torn claws to achieve this perfection.   
  
In the end the rail had begun to take some shape. It looked like it belonged in a house - the large kind that Black Wargreymon had been to once. Black Wargreymon flew up higher to make sure that his new bridge would be hard to miss. It was gigantic, almost as massive as Black Wargreymon himself. He guessed that the Tapirmon wouldn't need a new bridge any time soon.   
  
Speaking of the Tapirmon... They would probably come back to the bridge soon. Black Wargreymon hid himself in the shadows because he didn't want the Tapirmon to see him and get scared. That way they would never get to see the bridge and Black Wargreymon would never get to see their reactions. He wouldn't miss that for the Digital World.   
  
***  
  
  
The Digimon clique sat impatiently for their friend to come. Koushirou, meanwhile, continue to labor over his failed experiments. His usual high vocabulary was muffled with various curse words. The group stayed clear of him until he had finished, because he was working a lot harder than he usually did and dwelling a lot longer on it than he should have. They assumed that it was a genius thing, and that Koushirou's brain felt threatened a bit by Ken. He wasn't about to give in and say that Ken had the superior intellect. He tapped furiously at the worn keyboard, like a convict would his against prison bars. If the Digidestined would have thought to get close enough to his computer, they would have noticed that Koushirou was just pressing random keys on his keyboard and writing gibberish to his online chat buddies. Even he had given up on his own attempts to make the device work.   
  
Daisuke sat silently in the background; his back propped up against a tree. Ken would never, ever be this late. Whenever he and Daisuke promised to meet, Ken would always be there first, waiting patiently and watching cars speed by in his boredom. Now that he thought about it, Ken and Daisuke met a lot. They knew each other extremely well and had a relationship that was dreamt of by most children their age. Although Daisuke usually did most of the talking when they were together, and although Ken fixed his eyes to the asphalt, they were really very close. Daisuke enjoyed Ken's company because Ken was always smart enough to know when Daisuke was hurting, even though he smiled through it. He depended on the fact that Ken always took him seriously (at times too seriously, for when Daisuke made a smart joke his eyes would meet Daisuke's with a mix of shock and pure horror) and listened to him blabber for as long as it contented him to do so. In return, Daisuke would attempt to tear Ken from his shy persona. For when he was certain Daisuke and he were alone, only then he would start talking and ribbing a little more. It bothered Daisuke for a while when Ken didn't laugh for a month after Christmas; then Ken's kindly mother comforted him and told him that he was a very lucky boy. She hadn't heard her own son laugh in a genuine way since he was six years old. Since his brother died. Daisuke had then given her a hug and apologized for bringing up the touchy subject. He knew the love that she shared between both of her sons, dead and alive, was incredibly strong. One day she had even taken him aside and thanked him over and over for being her son's friend and for giving him hope - something she had tried repeatedly to give to her son, but failed miserably each time. She knew that he would need someone his age and someone that could relate to him in order for hope to work. That someone was Daisuke. Before Daisuke could reply to her kind words, his mouth was rewarded with a fresh, delicate and delicious chocolate chip cookie. It was warm and moist and the presumably homemade chocolate chips oozed between his gums and evaporated on his soft, pink tongue. His own mother could cook, but not *this * well!  
  
After ten cookies, Mr. Ichijouji entered the scene. At the sight of him, Daisuke stopped eating and straightened politely in his chair. Although his appearance revealed that he was a kind and gentle human being, Mr. Ichijouji was respected for different reasons. Years of bragging about his genius sons and dealing with the mounds of grief that eventually spurred from that had earned him this respect. Women respected him because after being married to his wife for so long, he still held her hand in public, took her dancing on his nights off and took her to dinner whenever she complied. Usually she would politely turn him down and say that they have food in their house and she would cook. He knew that even if he removed every item from the fridge, she still wouldn't leave. She would be too worried about Ken.   
  
Daisuke's impression of this man was none - he wasn't the type to judge upon first impression. Since he didn't know Mr. Ichijouji, he would leave his opinions to himself until he could get a better analysis. It didn't take much to be in Daisuke's goodbooks: some food here, a listening ear there - and of course you couldn't be like T.B. but if you were like Hikari, he would like you more…  
  
Mrs. Ichijouji greeted her husband cheerfully at the door before refilling Daisuke's plate with more cookies. Mr. Ichijouji joined Daisuke at the table and watched him devour the cookies. It took Daisuke a moment to realize that he was being watched. When he did, he offered Mr. Ichijouji a cookie without pausing his own eating.  
  
"So you're Ken's friend, huh?" A nod confirmed Mr. Ichijouji's assumption. "I sure hope some of your eating habits rub off on my son," he chuckled, only half-joking. He ate the cookies Daisuke had offered to him in two exact bites, paused to see if his wife was looking and then rubbed the crumbs off on his navy blue blazer when her attention was elsewhere.   
  
"I'm trying Ichijouji-san," Daisuke replied seriously.  
  
"Good boy," Mr. Ichijouji said warmly. "My wife and I are counting on friends like you to protect our son."  
  
"Protect him from what?" To Daisuke, Ken had seemed very self-reliant. He also knew and practiced judo sometimes.  
  
It was Mrs. Ichijouji's turn to put her two cents in at the table. "From the evils of this world - drugs, alcohol, strangers. And, especially, from whatever he ran into when he was… away. Daisuke, do you know where he went?"  
  
Daisuke decided just then that he had had enough cookies. He took his time licking the excess chocolate from his now-trembling hands. "Gee," he lied, "I really don't know."  
  
Much to Daisuke's relief, they decided to change the subject. "How did you two become such good friends?"  
  
"Soccer game," he replied simply, trying not to blink more times than was the norm. He'd learn that little trick from his sister Jun.  
  
Mrs. Ichijouji began to tear and her ever-loving husband, the one who stuck by her even when they lost their first son, rubbed her shoulder in slow, comforting circles. Daisuke was even starting to feel a little bit uncomfortable. Not only because of the display of raw emotion before him but also because he really wanted to tell them about the Digital World. Chibimon, the Digimon who failed the most at pretending to be a stuffed toy, took that impossible moment to writher in Daisuke's lap, adding to his discomfort. Although his human friend had his fill of cookies, Chibimon wanted more. He was silenced with a brisk tap on the forehead. Daisuke clasped his hands around Chibimon's waist and was about to whisk him out from under the table to show the Ichijouji's the truth when…   
  
Ken walked through the door. He was proudly wearing the Tamachi soccer jersey, which was slightly camouflaged by grass stains and excess dirt. It had rained the day before, making the grass slippery and wet. Ken, normally a rocket, "rocketed" to the ground several times that day, to his utter dismay. His teammates, only slightly adjusted to Ken's attitude change, left him alone to pick himself of the ground when he fell. They once had a very unpleasant experience when Ken was possessed and mean-spirited, where he had given a dull-looking boy a black eye for touching his hand. Instead of cowering in fear from him, Ken had earned respect as a ruffian. Still, they did not look forward to a repeat performance. The dull boy had thought he'd felt his eye sinking into the socket and needed to be taken to the hospital.   
  
Besides the stains on his uniform and a miniscule scrape on the cheek, Ken was the essence of perfection. He was so silent in coming inside that only Daisuke noticed because he was facing toward the door. Every last hair was tacked into its rightful position, Daisuke noticed. It looked as though Ken had just borrowed a dirty uniform.  
  
"Hi everyone," he greeted as he slid on his slippers. He walked into the kitchen, where he was nabbed in mid-step. If Daisuke had better hearing he could have sworn that there had been a popping noise from air rushing in to fill the recently vacated space. Ken struggled in his mother's deadly grip, his cheeks a burning rouge.  
  
"Mama!" he protested, "Mama, I'm *dirty * and we have a *guest *!" He paused for a moment and wormed around to get a better look at his Mama's face. Immediately, he was concerned. Lately his mother had been holding him a lot but this time she looked really upset. He shot Daisuke a look, then asked,   
"Mama, why are you crying?"  
  
"I'm just so glad you're back!" she exclaimed, burying her face in his hair, much to his surprise. Awkwardly, he placed a hand on his mother's arm and rubbed it gently. Daisuke tried to keep from giggling because Ken's mom had mussed up his hair, causing it to tangle and clump together at the top of his head. He noted mentality to tease Ken later about trying a new hairstyle.  
  
"Take a cookie, Ken," his mother urged, teasing his hair back into place.   
  
"Oh, that's okay Mama," Ken rejected quietly, moving a little out of his mother's steel-like embrace.  
  
"Take one!" Mr. Ichijouji, Mrs. Ichijouji and Daisuke shouted simultaneously.  
  
"Okay…" Ken agreed, slightly unnerved by the sudden peer pressure. Daisuke pushed the plate forward and Ken nervously took a cookie from his mother's oriental plate.   
  
Daisuke could finish his cookies in one large gulp; Ken's father in two, but it took Ken fifteen dainty bites until the cookie was dissolving in his stomach. To Daisuke the speed (or lack there of) was agonizing. He usually didn't even see most of the food he shoved into his mouth and watching Ken he could see every crumb. A stray crumb lingered at the side of Ken's mouth, but a slow-working tongue lapped it up. Daisuke had eaten two batches of cookies, but watching Ken eat made his stomach churn hungrily. He picked up a cookie from the plate and stuffed the entire thing into his waiting mouth. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Ken cringe as he nibbled on the cookie, still as slow as before. Daisuke chewed twice and then swallowed, showing his new best friend the only way to eat a cookie.   
  
Ken grimaced. He had never seen such a display of unmannerly and rude behavior. Daisuke was throwing food into his mouth at such a blinding speed it was lost in the black cavern before Ken could even see it. Of all of the Digidestined, Daisuke and Ken foiled each other the most. Their personalities differed so much that it was difficult to see how a friendship would have brewed out of this. Little did those people know, but Daisuke had a way of making these types of friendships work, even when the person was so completely different that he was the only Digidestined that ate (and swallowed) caviar. Ken swore to him that it only tasted good on whole-grain breads and such after Daisuke had engulfed and puked half a jar of the stuff.   
  
From Ken's point of view, Daisuke's eating habits were more agonizing than his were. He had eaten two slices of pizza before he came home from soccer and was too full to handle any contests with his best friend. Now he had to sit and watch Daisuke chew with his mouth wide open. Little pieces of cookie-encrusted spittle found there way across the table to Ken's side and Ken protectively blocked his cookie with the back of his hand.   
  
"Aww, c'mon Ken, it's just a little spit!" Daisuke laughed, spraying crumbs that were stuck between his teeth. Ken bit back a laugh - there was so much chocolate on his teeth that Ken could have told someone that Daisuke had gingivitis and they would have believed him.   
  
"If only Hikari could see you now," Ken said, finally giving in to his laughter.   
  
Ken's mom squeezed him tighter at the sound of his laughter. He got comfortable in her lap because he had a strange feeling that he was going to be there for a while. Daisuke and he exchanged more serious looks from across the table and Ken noticed that he was pointing to a wiggling Chibimon in his lap. He sighed and cleared his throat, upset that he would finally have to tell his story to his parents.  
  
Ken told the long story, starting with his childhood and the feelings he had and not bothering to censor any part of it. All of it was important, even the part about Ken wishing that his brother would disappear. Through everything Ken was glad he had a friend there to guide him and to fill him in on the parts which he was absent for. Ken's parents weren't disbelieving, but they were shocked about how much had slipped by them without their knowledge. In the end even Daisuke was in tears.  
  
Daisuke and Ken were with each other through thick and thin. Ken helped him with math; Daisuke patched up Ken-related manners with the other Digidestined. When they weren't helping each other they were having fun and terrorizing the sane people. They knew each other like they knew themselves. And while Daisuke was waiting for his friend he realized that…  
  
Something was horribly wrong.   
  
He expressed his concerns to the group and the group knew that Daisuke could be a flake sometimes but when it came to Ken, he knew what he was talking about. It was suggested that they trace Ken's D3 and try to pinpoint the location where he had been when they had called him last. Minutes into the search, they lost the signal.  
  
~*~  
  
  
"Where are we Wormmon? I've never been to this part of the Digital World."   
  
"I'm sure we're heading in the right direction. I've heard about this place; apparently some really strange Digimon live here, all virus types."  
  
"I hope they're friendly…"  
  
"Don't worry Ken, they've never been known to attack without reason." Without reason, well that's what Ken was worried about. As far as he was concerned, every Digimon in the entire Digital World had a reason to come after him. He was not powerful anymore and he didn't have a weapon on him (he never considered Wormmon to be a weapon because he is not a material object) so the Digimon could do as they pleased. Lucky for him, most Digimon were peaceful.  
  
He heard a rustle in the bushes behind him and he turned abruptly, almost squashing Wormmon in the process. "There's someone out there," he told Wormmon. "Come out please, and don't be afraid."  
  
Creatures began to emerge from every crevice, rock or bush in the area. There were hundreds of them, each one a translucent shadow. The creatures whispered things among themselves and Ken only caught up to some of it. 'Yeah, he's one' 'Are you positive?' 'I never forget a face'. Ken knew that the creatures had to be talking about him and although he was frightened he wouldn't let it show through.  
  
"I know that you're talking about me and I think I know what you're talking about. I'm sorry that I was the Kaiser and that I may have hurt you. I take full responsibility for whatever I did to harm you."  
  
The creatures exchanged looks. "You are a brave Kaiser, child. But not brave enough. Are you now done with your old ways?"  
  
"I swear on my own grave I am."  
  
"So be it then, you must DIE!" The creature, who was most likely the gang leader, finally showed itself by latching onto Ken's neck. It had a transparent skin that felt pleasant and silky to the touch. Its lower body had no form and resembled a Bakemon's lower half. In comparison to the height of a Bakemon it was about an inch or so taller, but that seemed to fluctuate the more Ken struggled. The hands and arms attached to that body were ape-like, in that they were longer than its body and probably would drag along if it walked. It had the snout of a horse and the round, smooth head of a dog or cat. Instead of nostrils it had small, sharp tusks that were twisted like the ends of drills. The intense glare aimed at Ken was intelligent, superior in comparison to most Digimon. Ken knew that it would kill him if he couldn't get it off of his neck.   
  
Meanwhile, Wormmon had Digivolved to Stingmon and was trying to pry the thing off of Ken's neck. The creature turned angrily on him and, to the amusement of his followers, told Stingmon to buzz off because the fight didn't concern him. It was either let the psychotic creature choke Ken or, the creature promised, he would snap the boy's neck with one hand. Stingmon de-Digivolved and the creature was amused to see the young Digimon in so much agony over the pain of a living boy-beast.   
  
Ken could hardly get off of the ground and tried to breathe as much as possible while Stingmon kept the creature busy. Ken had almost drowned once in a public pool when he was little and got so scared that he practiced holding his breath every night. Now he could hold his breath for an amazing two and a half minutes, but could only survive being choked for so long. He felt that his head was starting to detach from his body and barely noticed when a young, red-transparent creature approached him.  
  
The creature turned to his mother and said, "He don't look so scwary mama."  
  
Mama creature panicked, rushing to her baby. She hardly noticed that, in her panic, she had mowed through Ken's legs and accidentally knocked the wobbling Ken over the edge of the cliff. Ken got a hold of the edge and tried to scream for help. The creatures watched as Wormmon, too upset to Digivolve, attempted to pull his friend to safety.   
  
Wormmon was just too tiny to pull of that weight back up. He succeeded only in ripping Ken's favorite shirt with his mandibles and putting a crack in his left mandible. Ken was still clinging to the edge when the leader of the creatures came.  
  
The leader looked over the situation, looked at the struggling, choked boy hanging by straining fingers from the ledge and made his decision. He lowered himself and grabbed a handful of Ken's hair with his monkey hand. Ripping Ken's head back he could see the boy was crying and struggling to breathe.  
  
"As far as I'm concerned, I'm letting you off easy," he told Ken before adding more pressure to his head with his hand. Ken's straining fingers gave up and he let go, plunging off of the cliff and into the forest below.  
  
  
A/N: Dun, Dun Dun!  
  
PS- before I continue, I need to know…should Wormmon join Ken at the bottom of the cliff, or should they be separated. You can e-mail me or write it in a review, but it's URGENT FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER!!!  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	4. Crystal Tears

A/N: I was too lazy to edit this properly, so I didn't… I have momentarily gained control of my plot bunnies, but they've got a gambling problem and will be leaving for Vegas next week so don't expect anything good for a while. I had fun with this chapter, really… in this you can see that it's a definite AU. Either that or I'm contradicting myself. A word of caution… Give me a Guiness Book of World Record and a big ass college dictionary and viola! I'm entertained for hours…Oh and I decided no Wormmon, due to that request:P  
P.S. - The cliff scene was actually more fun than it shoulda been…  
  
Chapter Four: Crystal Tears  
  
Black Wargreymon watched; he was momentarily satisfied with the Tapirmon's reaction to the bridge. Now he was regretting that he ever wasted his precious time feeling sorry for someone else. As the Tapirmon carted their food to and from the bridge, Black Wargreymon moodily continued his quest. He began to wonder if he was wasting his time with questing for destiny. Many Digimon lived their whole lives without ever meeting with destiny. If a Digimon met with destiny, their destiny had come to them, not they to it. He wondered if he was going about this all wrong. But without this search, this search with proposed and important self-meaning, what could he possibly do with his life? Did he even have life?  
  
Black Wargreymon did not stop walking despite his thoughts. He had had this conversation with himself plenty of times before and always arrived with the same solution. He was born knowing destiny and he would die searching for it. The search often left him in despair, but if destiny was meant to come forth to him that day, he would be searching when it came.   
  
As Black Wargreymon passed through another unknown area, he heard the sounds of voices chattering above him, thanks to hearing that surpassed the norm. His sensitive hearing did not bother him as much as one would think, instead, when he approached the source of the noise, he would shut off this ability at once, so as not to destroy the delicate inner tissues of his ears. As he moved closer to the source of the chatting, he adjusted the pressure of the sound in his ears to a comfortable level. He was not a spy, or an eavesdropper, but today he just couldn't get enough of listening, unknown, to another Digimon.   
  
He flew a couple meters higher and perched on the ledge, surveying for the best spot to observe the unidentified Digimon. In this spot he was able to observe several figures milling about inside a dormant cave. Black Wargreymon would chase the tiny blobs out as soon as he was done (not) eavesdropping. The light from where Black Wargreymon was sitting seemed to be chewed then swallowed by the monstrous cave of dark. He could barely make out the busied shapes scuttling about inside, but he could assume from their size and color that they were a horde of Bakemon. Squinting his eyes under their protective layer of armor, he moved so that his head was incased in darkness, hoping to get a better look when his eyes adjusted to the dark.   
  
When the creatures spoke Black Wargreymon realized that, in fact, he was wrong in thinking that these creatures were Bakemon. They were of some other breed, perhaps related to the Bakemon in their translucent, ghostlike forms. The innards of the cave had been transformed into a paradise for these creatures over the last couple of years. Black Wargreymon noticed that some areas had received an output of destruction worthy of himself. He was curious of these creatures and pondered the possibility that they may be his destiny; someone strong enough to beat him in a sparring match. He was never one to underestimate an opponent, he had learned his lesson quick and well, and if these misshapen, gnarled creatures were strong, he would fight them to the bitter end.   
  
"I can't believe Lord Zogleck let the Kaiser off so easily," one was complaining.  
  
"I just hope he lost a limb on the way down." Laughter ensued, followed by a brief silence, then an inquisition.   
  
"Why was he so easy to kill? I thought Lord Zogleck said he was the God of Death and Captor of All?"  
  
"Do you think that he's still alive?"  
  
"Maybe he wasn't alive in the first place. I mean would anything alive be that cruel?"  
  
"Only the Lord knows for sure."  
  
Black Wargreymon wasn't listening. He had heard a bit about the Kaiser, a fellow who had once tried to rule the Digital World and had come very close indeed. If it wasn't for the Digidestined that, well, he couldn't remember what they did to stop him. He knew that the Digidestined were formidable, but they certainly weren't strong. They were worse than mosquitoes on a life-long quest for blood. He was well aware that they wanted to "stop" him, most likely by killing him, but he was also aware that they would need to get stronger if they ever wanted to achieve that goal. He would let them try, but he already knew that they weren't his destiny.   
  
Maybe these ugly creatures were. One of them may be at least. He killed the Digimon Kaiser, someone who they considered to be some kind of untouchable God. Black Wargreymon would fight this Lord Zogleck to find out for certain. He didn't know much about the Kaiser, he also didn't know that he was one of those harmless Digidestined, otherwise he wouldn't have wasted his time.   
  
He stepped out of the bushes and growled like he meant business. The creatures were even more hideous up close; they even resembled a clear version of the famous potato head doll that human children sometimes played with. They looked like someone had taken the limbs, bodies and heads of all of the Digimon in the world and mix-and-matched to make these things. There was a creature with Patamon's ears, Gazimon's head and Mojimon's body - minus the limbs. This didn't stop the useless creature from rolling out of Black Wargreymon's way and screeching "LORD! LOOORRDD!!" at the top of his lungs. Black Wargreymon stepped on a beautifully crafted vase - accidentally - but this movement frightened more of the creatures into the daylight. The point was taken - Black Wargreymon had declared war.  
  
Although nothing compared to the Kaiser as of yet, Black Wargreymon was infamous in that perilous Digital World for his strength and for his constant evasion of the hapless Digidestined. More than one thought of their approaching death under the heel of his dinosaur foot had crossed his newborn mind, but never a thought had carried out. However, if they happened to push him any farther they would die a short, excruciating death.   
  
Unlike the Kaiser, Black Wargreymon was not human. He was also told that he could not be a Digimon because of his unlikely heritage. Inconceivably, the Kaiser was like a parent to him and it would be only right if he were a god. But if these creatures killed the Kaiser as they said they must be either really strong or really stupid. At first Black Wargreymon thinks the latter. You can't kill a god, how preposterous! Then he remembers that he has only heard of the Kaiser in stories and began to cogitate the possibility.   
  
At that point the Lord appeared in the manner of an apparition before Black Wargreymon. Creatures scattered to hide behind the aphyllous cacti rampant among the miniature city. Suddenly the air became irrespirable and Black Wargreymon blanched at the unexpected and foul odor of the creature before him. It dawned a read cloak made of fabric with the same properties as the creatures' skins. It looked as though it could be made of a new breed of silk because of its amazing luster. Black Wargreymon had an ephemeral thought about this "Lord Zogleck" skinning his disloyal subjects for clothing. He, personally, did not see the need for clothing, but maybe these *creatures * used it to identify members of their higher class. He saw they had no class, but thoughts of skinning and the pungent odor made his craving to fight more urgent.   
  
"The Lord bids you to speak!" it cried suddenly, taking a step forward and dragging its ape-like arms in a sluggish manner. Black Wargreymon made it known that the sight of the creature offended him by snorting and squinting his eyes as though he were ugly enough to cause permanent eye damage.   
  
"The Lord bids me nothing; I bid myself where to speak, how to speak and whom to speak with."  
  
"A mon of motive, I like that."  
  
"I've come to fight you."  
  
"Oh? Well, let it be known, I only fight when provoked."  
  
"Then I shall provoke you. Terra-"  
  
"You have done me no harm and I'd like to leave it that way. I will fight you, elsewhere, mind you, if it pleases you so."  
  
"It does."  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
Two more hours of searching passed and Daisuke began to cry. He plopped down on the solid desert floor, landing hard on his posterior, then covered his tears a hand for an eye. The other Digidestined joined him in a circle, heads bowed, tears flowing. Everyone had been out since morning thanks to Koushirou and it was now well into the night. The part of the Digital World they traveled upon now never saw the night and the Digimon that lived there had only seen the day. Most were petrified of any dark, the Digidestined's Digimon informed them. There were so many unexplored areas that perpetually oozed in strangeness.  
  
Daisuke was not thinking about the area he trudged through, once gallantly and hopeful, now slow and pessimistic. They hadn't seen a single Digimon besides their own since they arrived in the desert, but Daisuke didn't care about that either. He cared about finding his best friend, his true friend. The friend he had pulled from despair not so long ago and developed bond of golden thread. The only person that he had ever personally shared his deepest, most invasive secrets with.  
  
"Ken, if I told you a secret, would you, honestly, tell someone else?"  
  
"No, Daisuke. It would stay entre nous, between us. Why?"  
  
"Well, I have this problem…It hasn't really happened ever since you slept over but I just thought I may warn you…"  
  
"Is it enuresis?"  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"You know, the inability to control the bladder, bedwetting in other words. It's common Daisuke, don't give it a second thought."  
  
"How'd you guess? I didn't…"  
  
"No, I heard Miyako laughing about it. I was frustrated and I yelled at her. I wish I had stayed passive and didn't say some of the stuff that I did..."   
  
Daisuke smiled and gave his arm a squeeze. "You don't have to stick up for me, I'm used to it."  
  
"I know what she says makes you sad…"  
  
Now that Ken was missing he wouldn't have anyone to defend him against Miyako. No more late night movies at sleepovers, no more dinners together, no more long walks - no more Ken. Daisuke took his hands off of his eyes for a moment and wiped crystal tears on his dirt-encrusted blazer. He stood, breaking the chain of Digidestined that surrounded him. He thrust his head toward the silver blue sky and tilted it back as far as it would go. From below, Cody could only see the smooth curve of his chin and the teardrops that trailed in streaks along his most prominent features.  
  
"KEN!" he screamed, "KEEEN!"  
  
Nothing met his cries except for a single cloud that perpetuated throughout the sky.  
  
~*~  
  
  
Black Wargreymon was losing. He had not counted on the fact that the creature was poisonous to the touch and that the cloak it wore was not for fashion or position. It was a shield of some sort that blocked every effort put out by Black Wargreymon. Even though he was losing terribly, he knew this creature was not his destiny. It was not a good fighter, definitely not good enough to even ward off a god, let alone defeat one. The creature had not one single attack, it only had the ability to dodge and avoid predators, and that made it think that it was superior in battle. Besides that offensive odor and cloak, this cretin had nothing to offer him.   
  
Black Wargreymon expressed this to the shocked being, then took off, wounded but not hurt, to find his cave. It had been a long day and he was going sleep most of the night in order to heal his wounds. The creature had told him that although he was poisonous, the poison was not deadly and would wear off after a few hours. If it didn't, Black Wargreymon promised that he would be back to finish the job. First, he would rip off its cloak to expose it, then kill the entire village of creatures with his Terra Destroyer. After that, the decision to live or die would be left to Lord Zogleck. The Lord took the warning seriously, but made Black Wargreymon promise not to return to the village in exchange for a fast-acting antidote for the pain induced by the poison. Black Wargreymon agreed, against all principles, and left for his cave.   
  
The bridge he had built earlier stood as grand as before. It looked as though not a foot had tread upon it. Black Wargreymon took his time walking across the bridge, feeling a new sensation course through his body. Something in his brain, perhaps the God who had created him (not the minion, Arukenimon, who had merely brought him to life), told him that the sensation was called pride. He was proud of his bridge, and rightfully so.   
  
Black Wargreymon had not gone very far during the day, so he decided that he would sleep another night in the cave he had found. In the morning he would fly quickly through the areas he had already been, then revert to walking. But, his plans would change before morning. For in his path through the dark green foliage would be a disheveled body.   
  
~*~  
  
  
Ken was aware how close he was to death now. The inevitable happened, just as he warned Wormmon it would if he traveled the Digital World too often. There were Digimon seeking revenge in every corner, just as he had feared. They did not understand like most did and they did not forgive him. Though, the only reason why Ken had been the Kaiser was because of a miserable excuse for a Digimon whose name had been Myotismon. Even so the fingers could be pointed in that direction, Ken breathed in the shame every moment he was in the Digital World.   
  
His fingertips burned. They made dangling like this look so easy in the movies. For a boy who hadn't done a single chin-up in his short life, the pain told his brain that his fingers would disconnect from their sockets and break, sending him below to dagger-like rock that would certainly tear his body to body into unrecognizable bits. He couldn't scream for help, the pain cut his throat with razors and tightened his bronchiotubes leaving him unable to breathe, let alone scream. His throat tinged with the sensation of bruises from being throttled by the obscene Digimon.  
  
Speaking of that Digimon, it had now approached the scene - Ken could sense its aura. Somehow, by merely strangling him, it was able to open a passageway to Ken's brain. Ken was fascinated by it. He tried to communicate towards this passageway, messaging his good intention and hopefully his pain would be relieved. Instead he was met by a rush of angry thoughts that he would not ever be able to comprehend as they passed in and out of his brain so quickly. He didn't even notice that he was being lifted by the soft hairs on his head. His arms drooped like dead limbs on his side and he didn't hear the final words spoken to him as he was dropped from the edge.  
  
"As far as I'm concerned, I'm letting you off easy."  
  
But he felt the fall. He was thrown in such a way that he would graze the cliff all the way down. Zogleck knew the cliff well, as he had fallen from it months before. The pain would be more than excruciating for the young human, it would be monstrous because, unlike Zogleck, the human Kaiser did not have the power to regenerate limbs by feeding off other species. Zogleck had felt pain on the way down, but had trained his brain to concentrate on those he had touched and experienced little from the fall. For the Kaiser, a fall like that would mean death.   
  
Zogleck released his hold on the inferior human creature's brain, sensing for a brief moment an icy chill on the cortex of well-formed brain organ. He did not actually have a brain of the known sense, it was divided into sections - the part that worked was located in the center of his gel-like head. There, it would be somewhat protected from forces of harm. The spiritual, thinking part of his brain centered in the thorax, where it would be blocked from harm by an impenetrable fortress of bone, mass-muscle and gel. It was there that he felt the chill, on the most important part of his body.  
  
These creatures religiously believed in what they called an athroforce. It mean that the brain located in the skull could be damaged, even destroyed, as long as the creature kept its thoraxial brain intact. They believed that no creature walking on that earth could survive without their spiritual brain, because without the brain of thought, the creature would be useless. Breathing, walking and talking were all useless without some form of opinionated thinking.   
  
The irony in their beliefs and religions was that, in fact, the body of knowledge for all creatures was the Lord. They believed that thinking was powerful, but they decided to let Zogleck do all of the thinking for them. Two years ago, for the first time in their history, they elected someone to power. Thanks to Zogleck's knowledge of propaganda and charming nature, the other creatures bought into this political miscreant. They allowed their civilization to thrive and grow and become obsessed with the thought of World Domination, which was, Zogleck explained, entirely necessary in order to be taken seriously.  
  
The creatures only had a few short demands. They hadn't originally wanted the Digital World in control, they just wanted to be left in peace, as they had been for centuries. The Digital World was not even aware that such creatures existed because they had remained silent for so long. In fact, it wasn't even aware there could be other creatures besides Digimon in the Digital World - that is until humans arrived.  
  
Zogleck glared down at the human he had in his grasp. He heard his pleas and cut off communication. Ever since the Kaiser arrived his plans had been ruined, his weaknesses exposed to his adoring public. They had had to rebuild thanks to him and start over the oldest unknown civilization on the planet. It had been so unknown that all of the gods had forgotten it and Zoglect and company were not to stand for it any longer. They would be heard, even if it meant sacrificing an innocent life.   
  
Of course, he would not be able to ever speak a word of this innocence to his bandwagon, his loyal subjects. Anyone who dared to find out would perish, naturally. The creatures, with the exception of Zogleck (who had literally gone crazy when the fall of the great civilization killed his love and his parents) were completely passive. They would have just rebuilt the city with not a word, if it weren't for Zogleck. Now they would not be trampled over, but they still had a kindness that prevented them from killing those who were as innocent as themselves. Zogleck was bitter, and therefore an exception to the rule. The creatures couldn't understand his mourning (they presumed that mourning the dead was irrational because the dead were not forced to live, they could be with the spirits) and left him be until he came up with his great plan.  
  
As they watched the enemy tumble down the cliff, some shocked, others contemplating remorse, they watched their leader as well. He had no lips but he was smiling as only they could tell. The mother who had caused the trouble in the first place peered cautiously over the cliff, covering her child's eyes. Blood stained the side of the cliff in long dark rouge streaks, starting from the rock where Ken broke his right arm and worming their way down to the point of no return.   
  
Wormmon had tried hopelessly to intervene, but Zogleck had tired of him and knocked him unconscious by stepping on his head. The Digimon was still alive, but barely. The touch of poison Zogleck granted him with would not kill him, but it opened old wounds like an earthquake would split a sidewalk and those wounds bled furiously.   
  
Soon after the child creature began to cry. Despite the mother creature's efforts to shush him, he continued to wail, thrusting his head into the sky. She took him into his arms and they began their decent to the city. The rest of the creatures followed minutes after because they were still completely stunned by the day's events. Surely, they had talked about their revenge against the Kaiser, but they hadn't known the Kaiser was a ver young boy. He reminded them of their own children, except sadder. He looked like he was constantly in mourning and it was that thought that turned them away from the cliff. A creature in mourning was better off met with death. Unless they were Zogleck.   
  
And so, Ken fell. Zogleck made sure that he dropped him so that he would have contact with the jagged edges of the cliff all the way down. He was able to hear Ken's first strangled cry as his right arm, still in an upright position from the beginning of the fall, contacted with the first jutting piece of clay-rock and bent backward as his body sped forward. The arm gave a sickening crack as it disjointed from the rest of his tiny body. From then on it dangled loosely in his favorite shirt, seemingly held together by tiny knotted threads. As he fell farther to the ground, the arm, longer now, smacked soundlessly against his lower calf.  
  
The cliff started off narrow at the top, then grew a potbelly on the way down. Ken lost consciousness as his head contacted with the structure change. His ribs scraped painfully against the rough edges of the bottom half of the cliff and broke simultaneously as the structure jutted out once again. The broken ends of his ribs narrowly missed puncturing the delicate pink lungs they protected. Ken's shirt tore and logged itself deep into the holes on Ken's open chest.   
  
Trees that reached halfway up to the potbellied cliff caught Ken's broken body and toyed with it until their young arms snapped. Ken's left wrist became snared in a wedge of the tree, holding his body until the violent swinging caused by the rapid fall snapped it so cruelly that Ken's hand had a difficult time staying attached. Then he fell the length of the tree, landing at first on his left leg and breaking it, then tumbling onto his bruised back in a graceless heap.  
  
Throughout the history of mankind there have always been miraculous stories of human survival. People have fallen from seven story buildings in their cars and lived, gone without food or water for eighteen days, fallen out of airplanes with minor injuries and have had our hearts stop for four hours. Perhaps the most impossible feats have been endured by small children. Young children can endure being out in extremes of cold and heat. They can submerge underwater for sixty-six minutes and live.  
  
Ken survived the fall. Blood was slithering out of gaping surreal holes that covered his entire body. If he wasn't rescued, his life would drain away. Every breath he took endangered his lungs because they came closer and closer to that little pinprick that would mean death. His broken arm was bent absurdly at the elbow so that the curled fingers of his hand almost grazed his cheek. During the fall Ken had bit his tongue trying to scream and now dark red saliva dribbled out of his open mouth and caressed his cheek before dripping on the grass and dirt that had finally stopped Ken's deadly fall. Ken's hair was now midnight rouge thanks to several open wounds on his skull. Abstract limbs began to swell and discolor and had Ken been aware, the sensation would have been excruciating.  
  
Somehow Ken's D3 had followed him on the journey, then deposited itself at the base of the tree, next to a swampy, muddy lake. It would be hours before Black Wargreymon would emerge from his cave, unable to sleep due to the antibiotics he had been given to ease the pain of the poison. It would be hours before he discovered the body of young Ken Ichijouji.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	5. The Meeting of the Misunderstood

A/N: Ahh, haven't done this in a while… Some graphic description here, but nothing worse than you would see on a Stephen King TV movie. I was reading the Talisman while creating the end part for this fic. I'm still not done it yet, but it's a good muse for this story! Umm, *** mean that someone is remembering something. A pair of stars before and after the word means emphasis on that particular word. And ~*~ indicates a scene change. Boy, it's sure hard to type without my long thumbnail. You'd think it would easier, but no it's harder, because you have to adjust to the nakedness. It was two centimeters long and a hell of a bitch to cut! It was so thick!! Oops, got carried away. Enjoy the story=)  
  
  
Chapter Five: The Meeting of the Misunderstood  
  
  
Black Wargreymon lay flat on his back, gazing up into the endless night of the cave roof. The antidote had an annoying side effect that left him unable to sleep. He wouldn't be tired in the morning, but he liked to sleep at night relieve the boredom. If he had something to dream about, he wouldn't be as bored either. Instead of sleeping, he decided that he would take a walk, then return in an hour or so to try again to sleep.   
  
He walked stealthily through a midnight blanket of death and life. Luring his way through the folds, he met with his bridge, which was handsomely illuminated by the light of a false digital moon. In two giant leaps the bridge was behind him. Black Wargreymon gained speed, trying to avoid being seen by those atrocious cretins as he yet again marked his way through their territory. They were too frightened to chase him and too stupid to even notice that he passed by the cave.   
  
As he furthered into the woods, he stopped at a dark barrier which two portions of the world were divided: one at midday and the other at midnight. An aerial view of the landmark showed a strip of trees that extended beyond his eyesight directly in front of him; to the left the night which he had just recently departed; to the right the raging bright of day. He chose to walk through the water for a while; at least until he reached the lake adjacent to a cliff where, he assumed, the strip of trees would stop.   
  
He lowered himself and began to walk; swatting absently at the Flymon which careened out of his way, trying desperately to avoid him. Due to their lack of speed, he caught half a dozen of them in mid-flight, unintentionally injuring their life's wings with his sharp talons. Black Wargreymon had a premonition that he may find something useful at that lake. Perhaps it was a destiny stone. His speed increased. If that was so, he would have to destroy it and reveal the powerful chicken-shit that was constantly evading him. Then maybe he would show it a thing or two.   
  
Black Wargreymon did not know much about the Digital World, or it's history, or the Digidestined. Living there his whole life (as short as that would be) he still thought the world was strange in comparison to other worlds he'd traveled. The world that the Digidestined came from (because he refused to call it "the Human World") was extremely populated and bare, but at least the beings could not do anything unexplainable. Like flying. Black Wargreymon didn't like to believe in magic or the unnatural. In the future, he would have to.   
  
Black Wargreymon was not evil. He would have liked to be evil, that way he would have a reason to be feared and alone. He had thoughts similar to mourning; those thoughts would generally be associated with the flower he had betrayed himself to protect. Evilness was more commonly diagnosed by the Digidestined, inferior beings who had been taught from birth the stereotypical difference between right and wrong. What was wrong in their minds was right in his, what they considered evil was not evil to him. Killing Mammothmon had the significance of killing a fly to him. The Digidestined label him - but they attacked first. Also, they had no remorse when they squashed the Roachmon to death - big deal they weren't real! They were still alive, maybe a little brain-dead, but still alive. If he saw a Digidestined by itself, he would kill without remorse. The rest of those horrible creatures would get over it, eventually. He would show them the DigiWorld difference between right and wrong.  
  
Besides, the Digimon would be able to start life over. Just the other day he saw a herd of Mammothmon he had killed. Certainly death was not a pleasant thought and he wasn't sure why the Digidestined's world kept making newer, more different people, but in this world they came back. He always made their deaths quick if they needed to die. He would do that much. Half the time the Digimon he killed couldn't tell the difference if they were alive or dead. Black Wargreymon thought of his own existence. If someone were to kill him, probably the Digidestined, he would be gone forever. The so-called "evil" Digimon would be fought until they were too weak to degenerate. He assumed Digi-Hell was death. If you weren't reborn and you died in the Digital World, where would you end up? Black Wargreymon didn't know the answer, but he knew that's where he would be.   
  
~*~  
***  
Ken had waited by the phone all day.  
  
His mom told him that he wouldn't call.  
  
His dad told him to stop it; he wouldn't call.  
  
Still he waited.  
  
Hours ticked by. Ken sat by the phone in his lonely bedroom and waited patiently for the all-important phone call. Sometimes Ken would pick up a book and read but his eyes would flicker off of the pages to the phone. He played with the cord until he managed to get both hands caught. He panicked because he wouldn't be able to answer the phone and quickly undid the mess without jolting the phone from its cradle. Why didn't he call yet? There was no explanation for it because he promised he would and Ken took his promises to heart.   
  
Ken's act of neediness disturbed his mother greatly. She tried to coax him out of his room with a plate full of cookies shaped like little soccer balls. He cheerfully greeted her with a "No thanks!" and tried to send her packing. She had made those cookies just for him, knowing that he wasn't swayed like normal little boys when it came to food. Ken would not leave his room for a second, because he had been told the call was of uttermost privacy. He swore his parents would not interfere and he meant to keep his promise.  
  
Ken's parents ended up eating dinner by themselves. His distraught mother tugged at her grease-stained apron, absently stretching the folds of cotton. She would give that boy a piece of her mind, she would. She had never in her life been violent with anyone; that was to change. Protecting her son from the outside world would be her first priority. Unfortunately, her hubby would be the only parental unit available in the house when the call came - the morning after.  
  
"Heellooo?" Mr. Ichijouji cooed into the phone, expecting it to be his wife on the other end of the line. She had forgotten her shopping list and he suspected she would call him back.  
  
"Uhh, may I please speak to Ken?" came the frightened, young, male voice on the other end.  
  
"Oh, sure. Sorry, I thought you were my wife. I'll get him." Mr. Ichijouji had apparently forgotten that his only son had been waiting for the phone call all day yesterday and he wasn't supposed to give the caller any time of day. Perhaps he was too embarrassed to remember.   
  
He tapped on his son's door. Ken was still lying on the bed, racked from lack of sleep and crying. For some reason he felt used. He told his father in a depressed little whisper that he would take it in his room, but didn't do that until he heard his father's footsteps in the corridor.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Ken, I told you to wait by the phone! Your parents aren't supposed to find out about this!"  
  
"DAISUKE! ARRGH!" he screamed, slamming the phone back into its cradle.   
***  
  
  
Daisuke remembered the scene with tears in his eyes. The stinging sands of the desert they were walking on did not restrain the flow of tears. It was not a pleasant memory; Daisuke hadn't meant to be ignorant. He had argued later with Takeru that Ken shouldn't act so helpless and needy all of the time. Takeru had simply told him that it was just a poor excuse; like something a little kid would say after his kicked a dog or tarred a cat. He didn't know then why he had even bothered with Takeru. That kid was always wrong. Now he knew; Takeru was right.   
  
  
Ken had unplugged all of the phones after his dad left to look for his mother. Since he couldn't get through the phone lines or Ken's D3, Daisuke decided it would be a good idea to scrounge up some money and make a trip over to Ken's house. Big mistake. By that time, Ken's parents had returned from shopping and they were not at all pleased to see the little traitor.   
  
Mrs. Ichijouji answered the door with a false smile. "Hello Daisuke, I haven't heard from you in a while."  
  
"Is Ken around? I need to talk to him." He made a move toward the doorway, but Mrs. Ichijouji moved to block his entrance.   
  
"I think you need to talk to me first. What did you say to my son yesterday?"  
  
"Nothing. I just told him I would call sometime. I called this morning."  
  
"Uh huh. Do you know what my son was doing all day yesterday?"  
  
"No…"  
  
"He was sitting by the phone waiting for you to call!"   
  
Daisuke was taken aback. "What? Why?"  
  
"Because you said you would call."  
  
"I…well…I got distracted is all…"  
  
"As my son's friends you have certain responsibilities young man! I trusted that you knew them well and that you were taught well enough to know them, but I guess I was wrong. Ken takes every word that you tell him seriously and you'd better not forget it or I won't ever let you near my house again!"  
  
"Mama, it's all right."  
  
She whipped around, her hair lolling gracefully and her spatula whipping menacingly. She would not approve of her own son taking his situation out of her hands and back into his own. Although she knew he was a genius of some level, she thought that he wasn't capable of handling the situations purposed to him. Therefore she would step back from the door and let Daisuke by, let Ken show him to his room, then press a glass against the bedroom door to hear what they were saying. Then she would intervene at crucial moments with a plate of cookies or tray of tea. And *you* thought parental interruptions were accidental…  
  
Daisuke began to speak after a long silence between him and Ken. "You know, for a genius, (Ken cringed visibly, why did everyone always say that to him?) you don't know anything about people. People aren't always true to their word."  
  
"But if I didn't wait for you you'd be cross if I didn't answer the phone. What the hell was I supposed to do?"  
  
"I thought you knew me well enough by now! What does that say about our friendship? I didn't expect you to go completely nutso over something I told you to do! *I'm* the victim here."  
  
"So you to me to wait by the phone for you and that you would call, then you made me wait all day and you decided not to call after all. Therefore you're the victim right?"  
  
"…Yeah"  
  
"Get out."  
  
"Whaa?"  
  
"Get out. NOW."  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
That had been the first fight ever to occur between the two boys. Remembering it vividly now, Daisuke trudged further through the debilitating heat; continuing as if finding Ken would be the ultimate apology for his endless stupidity. Maybe it was the heat or maybe the thought that his friend had been killed (not injured, but killed - because unlike badly dubbed anime, he worried more about finding his friend dead than finding his friend injured), but Daisuke stopped being the self-loving boy he usually was. His Digiegg of Friendship flashed frantically from its home in Daisuke's D-Terminal. V-mon, who had been dragging his own feet behind him and panting from the delirious heat, suddenly sprinted forward to meet Daisuke's tired, yet determined, feet. Daisuke didn't notice the change in his Digimon friend's energy.   
  
"We need to stop," someone panted from behind. Daisuke paused in his walking, momentarily, to whip around and face the offending voice. It was Yamato. The sun had burned him so badly he looked the same color of a pig that has been twirling in the rotisserie for hours and hours. In fact, all of the pale faces in the group had the same horrific look - Yamato's blonde hair just amplified the painful burnt look.  
  
Daisuke scoffed. "Who the hell gave *you* the Crest of Friendship? Fine, leave. We'll see who the true friends are - when we find Ken we'll tell him exactly where you went!"  
  
He felt a pressure on his arm. "Daisuke," Sora started, but didn't finish.   
  
Daisuke laughed curtly. "Don't stick up for him," he said as he turned and continued walking. He paid no attention to the entire group who had stopped completely and who were now watching his back depart into the never-ending sun. Taichi feared the kid would die from the scorching heat, though some part of him commended Daisuke's bravery.   
  
He caught up to the young man and placed a hand on his shoulder as if to stop him. The next thing he knew, he was on the ground; a punch in the throat had seen to that. While still gasping for breath, Daisuke loomed over him, a comforting shadow from the heat, and was punched again and again. Taichi was aware of the pain escaping his throat and face, but made no move to stop the boy. Jyou, worried that Taichi would break his nose in the scuffle, hurried to the scene, first aid kit in tow. Yamato separated the two boys with the skill of someone who had been accustomed to fighting, especially with Taichi. Takeru tried pulling on Daisuke's arm to make him stop, but Veemon, who was offended by the fighting and the hurtful gestures made towards Daisuke, head-butted his knee so hard that Takeru heard it pop out of place.   
  
The girls decided it was their turn to intervene. Simultaneously, Mimi and Miyako grabbed one of Daisuke's arms and swung it behind his back. Their long, thick nails dug into his skin, causing him to yelp in pain. Meanwhile, Sora had worked her way to the front and punched Daisuke squarely in the forehead. "TKO!" they shouted, giving each other hugs.  
  
Jyou rushed over, determined to help, but not so determined to be injured. Koushirou and Iori watched silently from the sidelines until Koushirou decided he had had enough violence. He covered Iori's eyes with one hand, despite the protests from the mouth of the youngest member of the group.  
  
With Takeru screaming in agony, Taichi bleeding his shirt through, Yamato hollering at the bite marks he had recently received from a raging Daisuke and the offender temporarily subdued by the girls of the group, no one noticed the small creature inching its painful little way towards them. Its legs gave suddenly, hurling it toward the dry, burning ground. Raging pain soared into its head, making it yelp. The Digidestined heard the noise, despite their own quarrels, and rushed to the side of the fallen Digimon. They didn't realize who it was until they came a little bit closer.   
  
"Wormmon!" Hikari cried scooping him up into her loving arms (A/N you thought I forgot about her didn't you???). He twitched a claw in agony, trying to speak with broken mandibles and blood in his little mouth. Panicked, the rest of the Digidestined clambered to the nearest tree, trying desperately to find some shade for the heat-struck Digimon, who was used to living in cool houses. Jyou frantically dressed the wounds while Daisuke, now complete with a gnarly bruise, knelt beside the dying Digimon.  
  
"Wormmon, where's Ken?" Daisuke asked slowly.  
  
"…."  
  
"Wormmon?"  
  
"…He's…dead."  
  
~*~  
  
  
Black Wargreymon had tread too far. Inevitably, he was lost. He remembered that the forest was just straight strip of trees, but which would take him farther in and which way would get him out of the forest? At last he decided to fly up and see where he had ended up. When he got high enough to see where he was, he realized the reason why he was so hopelessly lost. The earth had shifted and the sections he traveled in had rearranged themselves in confusing patterns. The desert now the forest, the forest now bathed in darkness and the darkness was now melted by a beaming sun. In the center of the misshapen regions a lake stood out, like the yellow blobs of nectar nestled in the heart of a flower. It was the central point of the maze the Digital World had created to elude him, so he decided it would be best to start from there and work his way in. If he was still lost after that he would have to ask for directions. He shuddered involuntarily.  
  
Coming towards the lake through the forest, Black Wargreymon saw that he had three choices: north, west or east. As he walked he swatted a few forest-dwelling Digimon out of his way, knowing full well that he would have to turn to them if he needed help to find his way back to the cave. He wouldn't get lost, he would expect that, but he would find something that would change his destiny for good. Unbeknownst to him, a destiny stone glimmered underneath its layers of protection, undetectable under the circumstances. It was nestled comfortably in its bed of water. Numerous types of sea-Digimon in dazzling colors and shapes swum past this monstrosity, barely casting it a glance; it had been so long in the lake its presence was no longer a concern.   
  
Usually, Black Wargreymon would notice the presence of any destiny stone - but today was not a usual day. Actually, today was beginning to set into tomorrow: who could tell? It was the Digital World after all. Black Wargreymon had seen something unusual under a tree straight ahead from where he was standing. He suspected he knew what was laying crumpled and indignant over there, but he marched forward, tugged a little by the force of the destiny stone, just to ease his suspicious.  
  
Almost sadly enough, he was right. Under the beautiful blooming cherry tree lay a boy of about the same age of other human boys he had seen trampling through the Digital World. He was in such a tangle of arms, limbs and blood that Black Wargreymon could not distinguish which of the boys it was. Not that it mattered. He would be doing the little human boy a favor by discarding his remains in the lake. Then, the boy could be at rest.   
  
He got closer to the boy and noticed that the corpse did not emit any sort of smell. That must be because the corpse is fresh, he thought, then crept even closer. It was only when the corpse of the boy opened his eyes that Black Wargreymon realized that he was still alive. "Help me," the Boy's breath whispered, the orbs of his eyes blanketed in a sea of pain. Blood dribbled from his stiff fingertips and flowed thickly down from the Boy's mouth. His cheeks carried the drops of red goo down to his ears, where it had begun to pool. A rib had seared some the Boy's skin out of the way and was now a sharp, white point protruding from the middle of his chest. Black Wargreymon automatically suspected foul play. Perhaps a Digimon had stomped this human to death - an excellent reason why Digimon should have the ability to Digivolve to the next step without the aid of humans. Humans were too easily killed and a Digimon could get itself murdered protecting them instead of themselves. Black Wargreymon decided that he was going to do this suffering human a favor by putting him out of his misery.  
  
As he approached the Boy he saw fear linger in his eyes for a moment, before it was swallowed by a gust of pain from damaged nerves. He sensed the Boy knew what was coming to him and had gnawed at the last ounce of fear. Black Wargreymon hovered his foot over the body, and the Boy opened his eyes wide enough for Black Wargreymon to see his own fear reflected in the vibrating, liquid orbs. The Boy was in pain, he wanted to die - so why was this so hard? He had done mercy killings before. He had done even more killings on purpose. Yet his foot, which was getting quite stiff from hovering for so long, never came down. What was wrong with him? He couldn't possibly be sympathetic for this Digidestined Boy, could he?  
  
He knelt beside the Boy, trying to douse his new emotions with old ones. He pressed a cool claw to the   
Boy's face, marveling briefly about how soft his skin felt. Black Wargreymon found himself increasingly more upset over the fact that he couldn't mercy-kill a lousy human being. And it wasn't that he could use the excuse about making the Boy suffer either. He couldn't let the Boy suffer and he didn't know why.  
  
Black Wargreymon then made a decision that would change his life profusely. He decided to bring the Boy back with him to the cave and then proceed to care for his wounds - somehow. The plan had many holes, he discovered as he thought it over, but for some reason it felt right. His conscious plagued his mind and right now it was screaming at him, screaming  
(*thisishowtheyfelttheyfeltafteryourippedthemapartandleftthemtodieuh-huh*)  
about past occurrences and how things could have been. He now knew why he always walked away from a massive blood bath - the smart fighters don't want to see their victims die slowly and morbidly. Also he didn't want to be faced with the coup-de-grace.  
  
He knelt closer to the boy, he was knocked farther back on his rear from the purely appalling stench that had gravitated from the Boy to his nostrils. The Boy hadn't pissed himself - no that wasn't it. This stench was familiarized with death and only creatures with the greatest sense of smell were affected. It was worse than anything he had ever encountered, but if this Boy was meant to be taken to the cave it would happen or he would eat the Boy himself. Wait, no, that's not how it goes…  
  
Something needed to fend off that horrible smell or else Black Wargreymon would not be able to near the Boy without retching and becoming violently ill. It was one of the prices he had to pay for being such an amazing and perfect creature. Another disadvantage was that he wasn't exactly - how to put it lightly - the sharpest tool in the shed. In fact, he was two Cheerios short of a whole bowl. His solution to the problem: Stuff some leaves up his nostrils! As it turned out, Black Wargreymon didn't know much about leaves either, especially the kind that was poisonous. He wouldn't notice the numbness until he had gotten the Boy back to the cave because as soon as his mind rested he would register the lack of pain.   
  
He approached the Boy again, no longer smelling *anything*, and wondered how the heck he was going to carry him home without breaking him even more. Delicately he extended his right index claw and poked the Boy just enough to jostle his arms and legs into slightly different positions. He could see the Boy's beautiful, pale face scrunch up in pain. His mouth erupted in a gush of blood as the Boy tried to scream. Things suddenly got a little easier for Black Wargreymon to handle as the Boy lost consciousness.  
  
He used his claws as giant scoops, carefully sliding them underneath the Boy so as not to agitate any more skin. Even though the Boy was unconscious, he still may wake up if he experienced any pain. Black Wargreymon got as far as lifting the Boy up to his hips, then he realized he didn't know how to carry a human being…  
  



	6. Interlude

FINALLY! I took so long some people thought the last chapter was the end^^; Anyway, I wrote this chapter extra good and although there is no Black Wargreymon, we can assume he was either walking or sitting the entire time. There's a little bit of groatiness in this chapter, but not too bad. Also, no one is a couple unless stated in the show. That means that Yamato and Sora are a couple, and that's it. The rest are just friends or trying to be more than friends. That way, everybody's happy. I didn't mean for this to be a romance novel, and it will not become a romance novel - ever! it's just that sometimes it comes up. Anyway, thank you for your patience and hopefully I'll have the next chapter up sooner. Thank you for your reviews!  
  
Chapter Six: Interlude  
  
  
Ken's mother was in a panic. Her darling son hadn't shown up for dinner. She had to reheat the rice over and over because Ken was so late coming home. Now she was sitting on the couch with her husband, oblivious to the fact that the rice was burning beyond recognition on the stove. He was rubbing her back in slow, calm circles, and holding both of her hands in one of his. She had a habit of tugging viciously on her hair when something went wrong and as a result, lost most of the hair that she had when she was younger. When Osamu died, she began ripping out her hair faster than it would grow back, leaving her bald in some areas. Before her husband took her to the doctor, she began to improve because her other son, Ken, was displaying remarkable genius. Growing up in an average family with average intelligence, Mrs. Ichijouji appreciated the mind talents of both her sons perhaps a little too much. Ken soon realized he could make his mother well just by reading Advanced Physics, even though at first he only pretended that he was reading. Soon after his mother enrolled him in the gifted school, he was forced to spend the majority of his time reading about things that children should never have to concern themselves with. Ken only wanted to go outside and play. But he learned discipline quickly, because if he got kicked out of the gifted school for being stupid, his mother would start pulling out her hair again.  
  
As a result of hard work and with the aid of the dark seed later on, Ken was able to gain attention for his smarts. He was aware that his classmates were jealous of him and only talked to him because he was somewhat of a celebrity. Geniuses were quickly made into celebrities in Japan and this fact made Ken wish he had lived in North America. Then maybe he could make a couple of nerdy friends and become teased for his smarts. Again his mother's health inspired him to go on with the charade and he did.   
  
The dark seed later helped him with his studies to the point that he was engaged for nearly twelve hours a day. If he was told to learn about any subject at all he would read textbooks, library books and internet pieces out the subject until he was too tired to learn anymore and simply passed out in the array of books and papers. His mother would lovingly pick him up off the floor and put him onto his bed, completely unaware of the dark bags under her son's eyes and the gradual distancing between him and his parents. More often now he didn't join them for dinner, or play games and everything seemed to drive him to anger. If his mother so much as touched a paper on his desk he would holler as if in pain and throw all of his books around the room. His mother didn't know how to stop that sort of behavior because she had never experienced the need to discipline any of her sons, so she just left him alone. It came to the point that if she stepped into Ken's room while he was in it she would be severely injured by a trap. Ken, one day, decided it was a good idea to set these traps in his room while he was gone so that *nothing* would be touched, but neglected to tell his mother. She came in the next morning trying to make his bed and discovered that it had not been slept in. Seconds later a painfully sharp trap clamped down on her foot, making her cry in agony. She couldn't go to work for days because of the ache deep inside her foot that the trap had caused. Ken's excuse was, "If she wasn't so nosy, it never would have happened."   
  
Even Ken's teachers started to notice the change in his attitude. By then it was too late to kick him out of the school without some controversy. Ken had started writing messages to his teachers on his tests. First they were written in Chinese so that the teachers wouldn't understand their meaning. Then Ken became bold and started using Japanese characters to express himself. How Ken managed to finish the test, point out the teacher's mistakes on the test and write crude remarks about everyone all over it *and* finish first was mystery. They constantly thought back to the smaller Ken who had cried when he couldn't answer his teacher's questions and who was the bunt of all the other students' jokes. Now the same Ken refused to answer questions from teachers who considered him a child. "I'm not a child," he would say, "I just resemble one."  
  
When Ken disappeared, he came back the child they first remembered. They kept him in the system because he was visibly traumatized. Students were sent to the principal's office in hordes for commenting on the young boy's lack of performance. The students who refused to comment believed that Ken was even more of a genius for creating this stupidity in order to escape the harsh and studious life of a genius. They recognized that look on his face during class, the one that begged to be anywhere but there. They could even see that he was in pain for whatever happened, but was slowly recovering. At first they had come to a consensus that he was kidnapped and raped, then given drugs and placed in his bedroom afterwards. In a long, sad interview with police, Ken denied any knowledge of what had happened. The police almost had him saying that he ran away from home, but that almost was as far as they got before boy clasped his hands onto his eyes and cried silently.   
  
After that, a long ride home in the family vehicle caused Ken to fall asleep. His mother crawled into the backseat with him, being reunited with her son after consciousness for only three days. She collected his heavy head into her lap and caressed his soft skin and hair. After some deliberation, she planted a kiss on her son's smooth cheek, leaving her trademark lipstick smear. "We never stopped hoping," she whispered in his sleeping ear.   
  
~*~  
  
  
Daisuke was beyond crying. Just moments before he had been stopped by Hikari because he wanted to ask Wormmon where Ken's body was. He just wanted to be *sure* ; didn't she understand that? Now Daisuke was sitting on the sandy ground below a tree, clutching his stomach and trying not to puke. The rest of the Digidestined were trying to perform a life-saving operation on Wormmon. Daisuke decided that, since he had no medical knowledge, he would only get in the way. He sat in a trance watching the tumbleweeds flop in and out of his view. Their jolted movements only made Daisuke feel sicker. The rest of the Digidestined pretended they were helping Jyou, but really they didn't want to face their and Daisuke's pain.   
  
Daisuke was weightless now. His jaw cracked when he moved his face suddenly up towards the sky. As a happy boy he wasn't used to frowning and looking up at the same time. He and his big mouth. *Now* he had a problem - his best friend was dead and he couldn't cope with the sadness.  
  
Daisuke felt an arm around his waist and moved only his eyes to see who it was. It was Miyako. Her left hand was stained with Wormmon's blood and she was looking at it now with disinterest. Beforehand, she had commenced uncontrollable crying, but now she seemed to be in the same state as Daisuke. Daisuke's gaze returned to the clouds and Miyako's followed. It was a long time before either of them spoke a word.   
  
"How is he?" Daisuke asked the same way someone would ask "Would you like fries with that?" after a twelve-hour shift.  
  
Miyako showed him her left hand. Silence ensues. Daisuke begins to notice that his partner is at his side, holding his hand with his claws and rubbing his head against Daisuke's shoulder. V-mon looks like he has been hollowed out because of his slumped posture and his unblinking gaze. It's been another hour since the Digidestined decided they had enough tools and knowledge to keep Wormmon stable until they could find him some better help. But who would help them repair a Digimon? Certainly no one from their world would be able to understand. Besides, they were the Digidestined, it was their eternal job to help save the Digimon.   
  
Poor Jyou was coming to the end of his ropes. He had taken several deep breaths before he started repairing Wormmon in order to keep his vomit away from his throat. Wormmon's lower belly had split somehow from swelling and his intestines were in a tangle outside of his body. Jyou had to look inside Wormmon in order to combat the swelling. He also used his stitching kit for the first time in his life to repair the split in Wormmon's intestines and the long crack on his head. Mandibles were cleaned and bandaged to the best of his ability. The mandibles were hard, like bones, therefore Jyou considered casting the bandages in order for the bones to heal faster. Old, newly opened whip marks were bandaged after a cleansing of iodine. Wormmon's fever began to subside all by itself as the poison that had been rushing through his body began to lose its potency.  
  
"Hey, I have an idea!" Koushirou's voice ran through the desert like a gunshot. No one had said a word the entire time Jyou was patching up Wormmon and they all jumped a little bit even in their state of wariness.   
  
"What's that?" Jyou asked, bandaging the last of the wounds.   
  
"Why don't we take him over to where Gennai used to live? I bet he can help give Wormmon a complete recovery."  
  
Everyone seemed ecstatic about the idea. Before they could begin carrying Koushirou off on their shoulders, a quiet voice rang through the area.  
  
"You forgot one thing," Miyako told them.  
  
"What?"  
  
"We don't know where the hell we are!" Miyako and Daisuke shouted simultaneously.  
  
"Well I don't see either of you trying to help!" Takeru screamed back.  
  
This started a flurry of arguments, which ended as abruptly as they had began. Hikari began to sink to her knees and cry as the screaming escalated, convincing her brother Taichi to speak up on her behalf. "Stop fighting everyone!" he shouted weakly, "One of our friends has died, we shouldn't be fighting! We should be mourning like ordinary people."  
  
"In case you haven't noticed, we aren't ordinary people." Yamato met his eyes and an internal conflict began again between the two friends.   
  
"How are we going to tell his parents?" Hikari shrieked suddenly.   
  
"I've thought about it. I think that we should tell his parents that he disappeared again, at least until we find his body." Jyou choked on the last word. When he recovered, he spoke once more. "I think that Daisuke, as Ken's best friend, should do this. They know and trust him the most. I'm sorry, Daisuke."  
  
"I can't do it! I can't! I'm having enough trouble right now keeping myself together as is!" Daisuke's eyes swelled a dark red as tears stained them again. "Please don't make me, Jyou."  
  
"C'mon Dai-kun, we'll stay behind and find Ken. Just be strong." The child of Crest of Love embraced him and Miyako, the two children closest to her arm's reach.   
  
Behind them, the injured creature stirred. Though in much pain, Wormmon was able to cry out Ken's name before remembering what happened and bursting into tears. At the sound, Miyako soon began to cry and soon after everyone joined in. They couldn't really afford to lose any more water, since they had been stranded on the desert for hours. Iori came to his senses first and realized that it was getting quite dark and that as soon as it got dark the desert would freeze. They would have to wait until morning to find Ken's body, which they assumed would be easy to find if Ken and his D3 ended up in the same place.   
  
This did not rest well with Daisuke, especially considering the knowledge that the youngest Digidestined had never thought Ken to be their friend in the first place. Wormmon began to shiver violently from shock, and then Daisuke changed his mind without much fuss. He would still have to skip dinner to tell Ken's parents what happened. They had asked Wormmon, rather carefully, if he was sure that Ken was dead and that was a definite yes. The insect Digimon burst into tears for a second time, but the Digidestined were able to make out "Ken-chan…cliff!" from the rest of Wormmon's tearful blather.   
  
"Guys," Jyou called out suddenly, causing everyone to jump and look tiredly in his direction. "We have to move. I think it's getting hotter before it gets dark, and we don't have enough water left. We can come back tomorrow."  
  
"What about Ken? What if he's still..." Daisuke stuttered, ignoring Hikari's comforting hand on his bony shoulderblade.   
Koushirou shook his head and said rather abruptly, "Let's go home." Most of the Digidestined were either to thirsty or too tired to argue, except Daisuke, who always seemed to have exponential amounts of energy.   
  
They walked across the endless surroundings. As they moved forward the scenery remained constant; it was a dusy, vast and dry spot of the Digital World. The older Digidestined had memories of their desert to think about as they walked. They would have much rather walked through the desert they had encountered before because it, at least, had powerlines and mountains and cactuses. This desert was so devoid of any life that it felt like they'd found the ends of the earth.   
  
The younger Digidestined found desert memories as well, but theirs were more powerful and saddening than the older kids'. The older kids were missing one important element, Ken. There had been a great many powerful enemies defeated in the deserts of their time, yet their other battles paled in comparison to Ken's ironic defeat. They had never seen a young boy deal with such grief and they were stunned to silence when the poor boy crumpled to the desert sand, crying.   
  
Daisuke still idolized Ken. But now it was different, it was more personal. He had stopped the unsentimental idolization of Ken's soccer skills and had begun to idolize the person behind the skills. Daisuke was pleased when Ken found a comfortable and happy medium between socializing and studying that also worked well with Ken's parents. Of course, Ken's level of social activity was minimal in comparison to Daisuke's, but it was more than Ken had ever wanted before "the change." Daisuke knew that Ken hated to talk about "the change", but that was the whole reason behind Daisuke's idolization. Ken was a great and fascinating person, like the heroes on TV, but unlike TV, Ken was much more concrete because of his imperfections, no matter how few and far between. Daisuke could never bring himself to admit to Ken that he idolized him. This was not because it was embarrassing; it was because any form of flattery Daisuke gave to Ken pushed the pause button on their growing friendship. His modesty was beginning to upset Daisuke because Daisuke loved to please people and tell them nice things. Especially to Ken, because he did deserve it.   
  
Gift giving was often an awkward event, as one can probably imagine. Daisuke would produce a gift for some absurd event and present it proudly to a bewildered Ken. Daisuke gave up trying to give Ken a gift without some sort of anniversary event attached to it, because Ken would simply refuse to take the present.  
  
"I don't deserve it," he would say before pushing the gift back into Daisuke's hands. "Besides, I didn't get you anything."  
  
"You don't have to give me anything in return! I just felt like giving this to you. I don't want anything."  
  
"Don't you expect something back?"  
  
"Well when you give something you should never expect anything in return. It defeats the purpose."  
  
"But you gain nothing."  
  
Daisuke made a little gesture with his hand, "Exactly," he said.  
  
From then on Ken insisted they should only give each other gifts for some sort of event to defeat the purpose of Daisuke's surprises so that Ken could at least prepare. Then Daisuke recharged his element of surprise by making his own events including "Ken Day", "Daisuke Day" and, Ken least favorite of all, "Fun Day" - a full day of exhausting activities and joy and laughter which caused Ken to feel so uncomfortable and bitter. That one came *twice* a year. Daisuke took pride in making Ken's life active and miserable but Ken appreciated the fact that Daisuke, in his own way, was trying to help him, to "normalize" him. Ken could not escape Daisuke's radar for sad cases, even if it meant that Daisuke would force him to enjoy his company. Besides, if he really thought that his relationship with Daisuke was so miserable he would have ended it as abruptly as it had begun.   
  
'But,' Daisuke now thought, 'It doesn't matter anymore.' He bit his lip and began to breathe in short, sharp gasps. He tried to stop his overflowing eyelids from dropping their large teardrops, but the attempt was in vain. The drops stung and reddened the flesh that had momentarily dammed them. Then they rode the curves on Daisuke's sun burned face; first over his cheekbone, then his lips and then over his chin and onto the head of his Digimon, who was walking directly below him. Veemon looked up at his partner and saw his lip quiver and his tears fall. Veemon lovingly took Daisuke's hand in his claw to comfort the depressed boy. Veemon saw this coming as soon as Daisuke had lapsed into silence. From his experience, it was best just to remain a comfort and that alone spoke volumes.   
  
Hikari, who was walking right behind Daisuke (with Takeru at her side, naturally), noticed what Daisuke's Digimon was trying to do, but did nothing herself. Maybe she had a good reason for acting so oblivious. Beside her Takeru was thinking suspiciously - and *briefly* - that Hikari is taking Ken's death a little *too* hard. Then he decides that he is not taking this situation hard enough and begins to blubber because he likes the feel of Hikari's hand on his lower back. And don't think that Daisuke hasn't seen this, because, somehow, he has. Perhaps he has a sixth sense for when Hikari is burning him. He says nothing.  
  
Farther back, Iori and his Digimon walk together. It came as a shock to some of the Digidestined when the smallest one insisted that he be the one to carry Wormmon home. They knew of this boy's tangled emotions when it came to Ken, but then decided that perhaps the child felt badly for the worm Digimon, who had not only lost the boy he loved to the Kaiser, but to untimely death as well. There were many questions Iori had lined up to ask, but knew better than to ask them now. He would feed and care for Wormmon and then try to ask these questions.   
  
Behind him are Jyou and Koushirou who are engrossed in conversation. The two pale boys have burnt themselves badly during their time in the Digital World, and they feel the discomfort their shedding skin is giving them. They were discussing what excuses they would give their parents when they got back, because not only had they missed supper, but they also contracted a possible melanoma nightmare. All they were able to come up with was a possible mishap at the tanning salon - that meant, of course, that everyone except for Iori, Miyako and Daisuke, who were remarkably unburned, would have to admit to being at a beauty salon. In actuality, Jyou and Koushirou were using their brains to try to forget what had happened on the field.   
  
Up at the front, ahead of Daisuke, were Mimi, Sora, Taichi and Yamato. Yamato's skin had taken very badly to sun, and it stung so bad that if he wasn't already brought to tears from the tragedy, he would have cried from the pain. Sora was aware that her boyfriend was becoming more and more like a tomato-stuffed lobster and was too afraid to take his dark hand in hers.  
  
Mimi, who stood beside Sora and to the right, sobbed continuously into her hands. She had only seen the boy on a few occasions and now was upset that she had not gotten to know him better before he… passed. She had her fists lodged into her eye sockets just like when she was a child, and was crying loudly. Her friends did nothing to comfort her as they were caught up in their own vexation.   
  
Taichi, who stood beside Yamato but really wanted to be beside Sora, was suddenly dislodged from his thoughts when his foot connected with something large and hard. Taichi fell hard onto his face, clogging his nasal passages and mouth with large wads of sand.   
  
"Taichi, are you all right?" Sora asked, helping her friend (No more than *friends*, Tai) pull his feral hair out of the ground. Taichi stood shakily on his right leg, which had received quite a severe laceration during the fall, and spat to Sora's left in a very unmannerly fashion. He sneezed most of the sand from the confines of his nose, except the grains that were trapped in mucus. Then, he shook the remaining sand from his hair, spraying everyone within five feet of him. Yamato took a moment from his skin problem to yell at Taichi for being inconsiderate. Taichi's strained response was, "I have sand in my *mouth*."  
  
"You found the TV! Oh thank you!" Mimi, suddenly cured from her case of the blues, leaped past Miyako (whom everyone had forgotten until Mimi bumped her) and was digitalized into the portal. Everyone else ignored her erratic behavior and jumped in after her. All except Miyako and Daisuke. Daisuke had caught up to Miyako and swung his arm around her waist in a comforting, friendly gesture. She leaned her head onto his shoulder and they both paused for a brief moment to gaze past the raging sun to the blue sky. Then a wish was made, a wish of wondrous proportions. A wish made without the aid of special stars or birthday candles. Yet, somehow, it was still a magical wish because, as it was cast into the sky, the wish of the boy and the girl was selfless and one in the same. 'Please let Ken be alive' we assume was that wish.   
  
Through the portal the two went. At the end of the trip they landed softly on their rears, which was rare. The two children were much too preoccupied with their grief to notice the simple gesture life had thrown at them to make things a little better.   
  
All of the children had wound up in a park not too far from any of their homes. Had Ken been with them, he would have stayed at Daisuke's place because he did not live as conveniently close as the rest. Surely Mimi lived the farthest away, but when she came to Japan she always stayed with her parents, and thus Ken would have been the only person to complain.  
  
Had he been there.   
  
~*~  
  
  
A boy stirred from an unnatural sleep, suddenly awakened by the frigid cold gnawing at his fingertips. Briefly he finds it odd that only his fingertips would feel cold, but he dismisses it because he has much more important things to worry about.   
  
He'd had the Osamu dream again. The one where his lost brother suddenly came back as an angry spirit and tried to take him to the other world because he was so alone by himself there. In the dream, Ken almost obliges, but in the last moment he realizes that the spirit is trying to seduce him and it isn't really his brother at all. It's just like a movie, and it always used to scare Ken.   
  
That's right, it used to. He'd had the dream for weeks when he was a boy, but he'd never had it since becoming the Kaiser. Ken had dismissed the dream, so now it was no longer scary. But why would it resurface?  
  
Ken was so delusional that he didn't realize that his body was so severely broken that his nerves stopped sending signals to his brain. His fingers were still feeling, but soon they would be destroyed by frost. How could it have gone from so hot to so cold so quickly? The answer was, of course, that this is the Digital World, and in this strange world, most anything you dare to imagine can become real. This place can create dreams to be real and it can also breed nightmares.  
  
The boy forgets the dream. He forgets that he has parents and friends and Wormmon because his fingers are so damn cold and the blanket he's wearing is doing nothing to warm him. There is no such a blanket. Before the boy has a chance to open his eyes, it's back to darkness, which now is the only thing he remembers.  
  
He is unconscious. 


	7. The Real Meeting

Sorry for taking so long with this. There's more BWG in this chapter, so I know some of my readers will be satisfied. And thank you for your reviews, especially the ones that thought this story was finished. See, people like me really shouldn't start the long stories. We never finish them. But I'll try. Thank you guys again and I hope you enjoy this chapter.  
  
The Real Meeting  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Black Wargreymon was in a destructive mood. He was crouched beside the lake where he had found the Boy and was currently enjoying a mid-afternoon snack of transparent lake-dwelling creatures. The critters pleaded with the giant beast from inside the massive cavern that was his mouth. 'Please! Digital Water Gods let me live!' they cried as they flopped against the roof of Black Wargreymon's mouth. The creatures stuck between his teeth screamed a different tune. 'Kill me!' they would say and he would flick his leathery pink tongue between the crevices, then chew for a minute more before swallowing loudly. To allow the largest possible amount of critters in his mouth he dipped his open jaws into the flawlessly clear lake, then shut them around many liters of water. He used his tongue to filter water from critters and swallowed the liquid in one large gulp.   
  
Sometimes his jaws closed on half a creature and there was a small, momentary explosion of red that stained the perfection of the water. The dead creatures sank to the bottom of the lake, and were then swallowed by crab-like Digimon called Corillomon, who loved the smell and taste of blood and preyed upon the flesh of the newly dead. Of course, they were not to leave their water prison to satiate their blood lust.  
  
When Black Wargreymon finally stood to leave, a wispy sigh could be heard amongst the waves. He had decided to move onto something bigger, oblivious of the sighing but well aware that the absence of his presence would be much appreciated. He decided that he didn't like this lake because this lake held memories of the poorest decision he had ever made. Saving the Boy was not supposed to be his decision to make and he was already beginning to regret that he had bothered. The Boy was currently in the same state of unconsciousness that he had been in since Black Wargreymon had carried him to the cave in his arms. Strangely enough, with the Boy in his arms he had been able to find his damn cave with ease.  
  
The Boy had kept Black Wargreymon up for the rest of the night, even though the Boy had not made a sound. Black Wargreymon was still trying to decide whether or not to snap the Boy's neck the rest of the way and toss him into the lake for the fish. In the end Black Wargreymon stuck with his original plan, contented with the fact that he had screwed with whatever was natural in the Digital World. Soon he would find another Destiny Stone to screw with and this terrible world he was forced to live in would become disoriented. His great battle with the creature behind the Destiny Stone would burn the maze of forests, topple all of the mountains and fill the land with the sea.   
  
Black Wargreymon plodded away from the surface of the lake and pointed his gangly body in the direction of the cave. Just by chance he happened to glance back in the direction of the lake and he noticed something shiny hiding in the reeds. He waddled over to the source of his curiosity and knelt once again to pick up the object. It was small and black and once in his hands, it became lost. Black Wargreymon realized that the broken device must have belonged to the Boy. He knew what it was for as well. In his short time he had seen the children flash rainbow-colored trinkets at their Digimon to force them to evolve. But he couldn't ever remember noticed a black device. Black is not a color, he reminded himself, it's a shade. What could this Boy possibly have done to deserve the black fate? Maybe, he thought, the Boy and he had something in common after all.   
  
Black Wargreymon whacked the device with his claw until one of the buttons activated. The screen showed flurries and nothing more. He supposed that it was just as broken as the Boy was. His partner would never Digivolve again. Speaking of partners, he wondered, whatever happened to this Boy's partner? They usually stick around their humans like snot. Suddenly, it dawned on him. The Boy's partner must have died; hence the black device.  
  
Black Wargreymon was not stupid. He also knew that the device could be used to track other Digidestined. If he wanted to exercise control over the Boy's life, he would have to isolate him from other humans. Maybe later he could use the Boy for blackmail and force the other children to lend him a hand with finding the destiny stone. Yeah, that would be great. So, he would have to distract the children from the cave. Or, better yet, he thought as he looked into the lovely crystal lake, I'll make them think that the Boy is dead.   
  
With that final thought, Black Wargreymon hurled the black digivice into water in front of him, watching with a satisfied smirk as the device floated and moved in time to the waves before being weighed by the water and sinking dramatically towards the waiting fish and water lilies.  
  
~*~  
  
Daisuke was at the Ichijouji's front door. He had been for at least twenty minutes. The young boy was having difficulty remembering how he was supposed to express the situation to Ken's protective parents. He remembered briefly how upset they had been when, one day (and only one day, he'd be damned if he made the same mistake twice) he had brought the last Ichijouji child home late. It was already ten minutes past dinner at Daisuke's place and he needed to board the subway in order to make it back to his family less than an hour late. His mother, though weary of his tardiness, would place his meal in the oven until he got home. She explained to her son that since he was needed to save the world she would keep dinner warm for the little hero. Daisuke grinned like an evil warlock, tempted to relieve himself of the laughter he contained upon hearing the irony in his mother's words.   
  
Ken's parents were a lot less forgiving. His mother wept loudly and embraced her son so tightly that the bones in his lower spine popped and cackled. Ken's breath caught the apology for the moment his mother held him, then let go a flow of comforting words.   
  
'Poor Ken,' Daisuke thought until Ken's mother's fury rained down on him with more awesome force than a tropical rainstorm. Daisuke blanched and stood like a statue would under torrential rain, overwhelmed by the washing of fury and guilt that soaked his innards. He was so floored by Mrs. Ichijouji's lecture that he didn't even notice that Ken, now flustered and stammering, ran into the apartment and retrieved his father.   
  
"Dad, make her stop." Ken was now the picture of embarrassment. His father placed his arm around Mrs. Ichijouji and she finally stopped jabbering and she allowed herself to be led back into the house.   
  
"I'm sorry." Ken apologized and bowed. When he straightened, Daisuke was smiling. Daisuke extended a hand and rubbed it in Ken's fine hair before skipping down the hallway and down the steps. He didn't look back, but he knew that Ken was smiling.  
  
There was no Ken to save him now. He was turned with one foot pointed towards all that was right and good and one foot pointed towards the exit. He knew that one would eventually led to the other, but together they seemed to be two separate entities awaiting his lonely decision. Finally, he chose to leave because he knew that the restraints that were holding his chest tightly would crumble if he relayed the day's events to himself. He doubted he would receive sympathy from Ken's mother, who, once she realized the error of her ways, had a deadly grip on her sorrowful son. Maybe she would throw him off a cliff, he worried.   
  
Yet as he turned, the fate that bound him so closely to his best friend acted so much out of line as to guide his knuckles to the door as he turned hurriedly to escape. The sound bounded down the lonely hallway, past the apartment door that contained an excellent martial artist and into the bland and chilly day. Daisuke winced and suppressed the urge to scream. There was nothing he could do; the decision had been made.   
  
He heard running footsteps, felt wind as the door was sucked inwards, saw the disappointment on Mrs. Ichijouji's pale face, smelled her cheap perfume that was much like his own mother's and tasted the tears on his dry lips that he had no time to register. It was warm in the Ichijouji's living room, or perhaps it only seemed that way because he felt so cold inside. He felt nothing but chilled and morose because of his sudden loss. Why couldn't someone else have done this? Daisuke may be brave, but he is not strong, especially with matters of the heart. Through glassy eyes and an endless trembling that centered in his heart and thighs, he saw Mr. Ichijouji speak, yet heard nothing. It was like he had ended up the world over and had lost his hearing. He knew it was possible to visit the world over, but that's not where he was now. He was mulling in hell, deserving a punishment that was not his.   
  
At last he opened his mouth, his words falling with great weights on the ears of Ken's helplessly despondent parents. Daisuke had to lie about the location of the cliff, naturally, but he spoke the truth of most of the situation. For the first time in his life, Daisuke wanted very much to be alone. He was unable to deal with these grievous emotions that had become engraved on his soul because they were far more consuming than previous emotions he had encountered. They could not be resolved with a kiss on the cheek and a cookie. They required what is said to be the fifth dimension, time. And time tended to be unrelenting and slow when it was needed to heal. During this healing process, Daisuke would be visited by swarms of memories that he and Ken shared, memories that had been tucked away would tumble from their eternal shelves in large masses to haunt Daisuke's dreams, his aching heart and his life. Everything Ken touched would become symbolic and would become something Daisuke would love to preserve to feed the memories and strengthen the sadness within. It was only natural that he would not want to lose something that he had already lost.   
  
He surely couldn't fathom what Ken's parents were going through. They'd lost two sons already. The first loss was more necessary to the balance than the second. It was necessary for the light and dark, the Ying and the Yang, to follow through with Osamu's death because Ken was too enticing to be held up for too long. At first Ken had been in Osamu's great, seemingly wise and dignified shadow, but when he had become locked in a dark closet within that shadow, Ying and Yang carefully plotted the older Ichijouji boy's death. No one had ever doubted their ability to play chess with invalid lives. Osamu had become invalid as soon as Ken had taken a shuddering, sickly step into the world. Ying and Yang turned their fascination towards this boy and instantly found that he was the only project they had successfully managed as one being. They were able to mesh in shades of gray because of this boy; the boy who continually danced on the line between eternal light and eternal dark had, with a little insistence, became the line that kept order in the space and time between. The longer he lived, the more fascinating and useful he became, and Ying and Yang could easily keep balance in the lives of all pitiful invalids.   
  
Ken's life lessons were not simple. He could not deny what the darkness had birthed him to be for much longer. The guilt even admitted the righteousness of most of Ken's actions, though its owner did not believe it, which was just as well in order for guilt to grow and thrive. Ken was a born winner, a fighter who only cowered under the pressure within him. Like it or not, Ken would lead again and there would be more bloodshed. It was necessary to maintain the balance. Then there was the matter of Black Wargreymon who was dangerously tottering towards suicidal tendencies. Well, he would once he found out that his lifelong mission was something unattainable. This was a problem since he had not fulfilled his set purpose, and it had to be carefully planned so that he would live as long as he was supposed to, with or without crushing disappointment.   
  
Daisuke was as invalid as most, destined to mill about on Earth, then in the heavens, then Earth again until time folded in on itself. If Daisuke knew this was all that he was meant to be, a smaller piece of another piece of a gigantic, intricate puzzle played and pieced together by Fate, Destiny, and of course, Ying and Yang, he would lose his mind and become even more useless; he would be floating instead of milling and being a part of other people, people who must experience joy and sorrow much like him. Daisuke never thought of such things, which was just as well. The mold used for people like Daisuke, those insistently happy and cheerful people, was used only sparingly, and it would be a shame to lose someone like Daisuke in a simple lesson.   
  
Ken's mold was a little different. Ken was a person was always thought it was raining. Which is not as bad as it sounds; in fact it's a lot more tolerable than some molds. If anyone can handle it, Ying and Yang thought, it would be Ken. Ying and Yang were experts at purpose and meaning, and nothing would be more purposeful and meaningful than introducing their meaningful Ken-chan to their purposeless Black Wargreymon. It was a thought close to perfection that the ill fated should meet and find comfort in each other. There would be sacrifices, as there were with everything, but the plan was set forth with much eager anticipation.   
  
Ken's father was calling the police, trying to remain calm. His wife was staring with disbelief at the wailing little boy on the sofa. She wouldn't trust him and she never had. 'I was right about him,' she thought, 'he can't be trusted.' Her disbelief surrounded around the fact that although the boy and his friends had climbed down the cliff to look for their friend, they could not find the body. She also couldn't believe that responsible teenagers failed to call the police right after the accident occurred. As much as she appreciated that they sent one of their cronies to her home to tell her false truths, if this had really happened, they would have went straight to the police.   
  
The pineapple child wiped more snot onto his sleeve and Mrs. Ichijouji did not think to get him a tissue.   
"You aren't telling me the truth," she spat suddenly, and turned her gaze from the white washed wall and her cooking poster to the little boy with the red eyes and the smile lines engraved near his mouth.   
  
"I think you need to lie down - " Mr. Ichijouji began, but his wife silenced him with her eyes. When Osamu had died, she had done the same thing, except her anger was directed toward the medical professionals. He just had to accept that his wife dealt with her pain in that particular manner, just as he handled his by bottling it up inside and trying to forget about it.   
  
"No, no, no. He's lying. Look at him!" she directed her attention back to Ken's quivering little friend. "Ken was kidnapped again, wasn't he? Tell me!"  
  
"What are you talking about?" Daisuke sniffled. "Ken was never kidnapped." Oops. He had a feeling that he would have to stick around a lot longer than he intended. "I mean," he added, "not today." His sleeve was beginning to look rather filthy.  
  
Mrs. Ichijouji pointed in his direction as if to say, "See!" then did so anyway. "He's a liar. Where is my son?"  
  
"He fell off the CLIFF!" Daisuke screamed and continued to do so when Mrs. Ichijouji grabbed his collar and shook him firmly. "Tell me!" she yelled at the little delinquent as her frantic husband grabbed her porcelain hands and removed them from the Motomiya's son.   
  
"Honey, stop it! We all need to calm down and wait for the police. Please. Now, Daisuke, what did you mean that Ken was never kidnapped?" The boy looked at his hands and Mr. Ichijouji noticed how cold the boy looked wearing those summer shorts.   
  
"I don't know if I should tell. The others might get mad at me."  
  
"I want to know exactly what has happened to my son," Mr. Ichijouji insisted.  
  
Daisuke sighed. "Then I'm gonna have to word this so that it makes sense to you guys. Uhm…Ken was never kidnapped, well he sort of was, but that stuff wouldn't make sense. After Ken's brother… passed away… there were some complications. Some powerful…people…wanted control over Ken's emotions. Ken wanted so much to be like his brother that he eventually became like him. He practically sold his soul for that chance. But there were problems with the deal because these people took control of him and forced him to think and act differently than his crest commanded. I mean, differently than his regular personality. He began thinking of everyone as "insects" and eventually got so fed up with this world and he left. He fled to this special place that me and my friends go to a lot. To be fair, he kinda came there first. But he did things, evil things, to the animals there. We tried to save them but Ken was always smarter and better and faster. When he left he stayed there full time and caused a great big mess. It took one climatic betrayal to get him to leave. Eventually he came back, which is good because we were all worried. He looked so tired. We went through a lot together and that's how we became friends."  
  
"If…if you knew that he was in this place, why didn't you get him out sooner? He was there for months."  
  
"I know. It's not that simple. In order to get someone to leave you either have to be stronger than them or they have to be willing to go. It took months for both sides to understand what was going on. Before this, we didn't really register that Ken existed. I just thought he was a smart kid and I wanted to play soccer with him because I heard he was great. That's all."  
  
"Why didn't you kids come to an adult?"  
  
"Because this is *not* an adult problem."  
  
"And who were these people you were talking about?"  
  
"Bad people. People who got what they wanted through Ken. They intended for him to suffer. They knew… they knew what Ken would do after he realized what he'd done to those animals."  
  
"What did Ken do?"  
  
"He tried to… but it didn't work out. Thankfully. I slapped him and he didn't do it. I felt bad, but I would have felt worse if I hadn't kept him grounded… I wanna go home now."  
  
"All right."  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
Black Wargreymon couldn't understand why he was frightened. The Boy's breath hiccuped through his broken chest and Black Wargreymon helplessly watched him tremble with cold. He'd tried to warm the Boy as best he could. He had taken the Boy's clothes from him because they were wet and torn and had made his way out into the bushes to find a dead Gazimon. He stripped the corpse of its fine fur using only his nails and a sharp rock. From the fur he had fashioned a decent-looking blanket that he was particularily proud of, since he did not consider himself to be domesticated. The blanket had fit well over the thin, chilled form of the Boy, but did not do much to remove the blue from his lips.   
  
Earlier in the day Black Wargreymon had taken the children from a mother Gorillomon and forced her to splint the Boy's broken bones. It had taken her until mid noon to finish the job. It was her finest work, and Black Wargreymon agreed that it would do. The Gorillomon did not mention that the Boy may never walk again. She was not usually selfish, but she wanted her children back. Black Wargreymon dismissed her and decided that if the Boy was going to live a while longer, he should find someone to tend to the Boy full time.   
  
Black Wargreymon had spent a lot of time listening to the Boy take his little boy breaths, and perhaps felt slightly paranoid because he knew the possibilities well and could sense that every breath taken was one less breath to be taken later on. He felt mesmerized and could even be compared to an old man watching the second hand tick away on a Sears wrist watch. He did not know this, but he had not thought of the Destiny Stones at all this day and did not pursue them. If he had known, he would have mocked himself for being foolish, and yet he would have stayed.   
  
Taking care of the Boy was like being blind for the first time - he couldn't tell where he was going or how he was going to get there. He knew nothing about caring and currently felt no pain from which he could sympathize. He realized, as he had on many occasions before, that he had been brought into this world with little knowledge of what was behind it and this had left him feeling disjointed. Black Wargreymon didn't belong here if there were no battles to call his own. If he lost he would accept his loss and die appropriately from his injuries. If he won, his fate would be no different. Black Wargreymon knew how to serve his purpose. As much as he ignored that awful witch that brought him into the world, he could not deny his creator's intentions.   
  
The Boy made a noise and Black Wargreymon found himself to be foolishly startled. He hadn't expected the Boy to stir quite so early, therefore he must have been doing something right. Carefully, with the clumsiness of a child who is making cookies for the first time by themselves, he positioned the Boy so that his arms were balancing the lanky little body. Then he pulled upwards so that he could feel the Boy's feverish cheek on his chest. He felt the shaky breaths the Boy took, felt them right through his armor, and suddenly his heart jumped. Each laborious breath kept the Boy alive and allowed Black Wargreymon to feel at peace.   
  
Black Wargreymon had hope that the Boy would awaken in his arms. The feelings evoked were strange and new to him and he would discuss them with the Boy, whether he wanted to listen or not. Admittedly, Black Wargreymon hadn't decided what he would use the Boy for, besides blackmail of course. Maybe, perhaps, not even that. Maybe he would decide to keep the Boy hidden and all to himself, for as far as the Digidestined were concerned, the Boy had fallen off a cliff and had drowned in the lake below.   
  
He had not factored in the Boy's needs. The Boy might try to get away if he got better. He might try to run away *before* he got better, and this worried Black Wargreymon a great deal because he had gone to such lengths to find the right Digimon, the one who would be able to fix the child's wounds. Since Black Wargreymon couldn't fathom the Boy's wounds, he did not realize that the chances of the Boy standing, or even crawling, out of the cave would be slim to none. He also did not realize that he had picked up a smart Boy, but how would he have known that? Before the incident, he had not thought much of the little brats that could travel in and out of the Digital World and that could transform the weakest Digimon to a great fighter with a mere toy. Black Wargreymon did not experience jealously towards these strange beings, but instead was rather annoyed and angry with their tireless efforts to hide the Destiny Stones from him.  
  
He sighed; the Boy must have had a nightmare and was not moving now. But as Black Wargreymon was about to place the Boy back down on the bed he had stolen, the Boy's eyes flickered and opened. Their eyes met and Black Wargreymon was unconsciously aware that his breaths lifted and flattened the long strands of the Boy's hair. For a moment there was nothing and Black Wargreymon thought the Boy was afraid. Then, simultaneously, both Boy and beast smiled at each other and the great wonder began. 


	8. A Rift In the Sky

Sorry for the long wait. I've been busy and then I sort of lost interest in the story. But, you guys really wanted this, so I'm going to continue it. It may take me a few weeks per chapter, but if you've been patient this far, that shouldn't be too bad. God, it's hard to type with one hand...  
A Rift in the Sky  
The Gazimon should have noticed that something was amiss in his homeland. However, he ignored his God-given instincts because he was just thrilled about being back home. He'd gone off many months ago, when the moon was low and the sun shone only every other day. His trek led him to a rival gang of Gazimon that were occupying territory long laid out by his ancestors. The turf battle had been horrendous and the fight between the two gang leaders lasted many days. It ended with a swift move of a dagger plunged into a fur-covered heart. He'd been victorious and he couldn't wait to tell his family the great news. They would no longer have to live in fear and cower in cave, shadowed from all light. Gazimon were sun loving creatures by nature and this group of Gazimon were depressed to the point that some would venture out of the caves in the middle of the night to be preyed upon by larger Digimon.   
The reason why the Gazimon were forced to huddle in a cave was because for four months straight they had been between leaders. The pact was having much difficulty deciding who would be the best to lead for them. One was smart and youthful while the other had much experience and knew where all of the best supplies could be found. Without a leader to take on the challenges put forth by other leaders of similar gangs, the Gazimon were forced to evacuate.   
With the creation of Black Wargreymon, getting their land back proved much more difficult than it usually would have been. The more youthful Gazimon had won out in the end but only because he'd startled the other Gazimon so badly that his heart stopped. The tribe felt nothing but relief after his death because they could finally begin accumulating land. Unfortunately, they had to wait weeks in order to send out their new leader on his quest because Black Wargreymon killed their kind for sport and he was currently in the area. Cautiously, they studied Black Wargreymon's night rituals and were able to formulate a timeline in which their leader could voyage without facing Black Wargreymon.  
It was on the faith of this same schedule that he returned. Still, his paw quivered above the dagger that was strapped to his belt. As he continued to approach the cave and as harm seemed past him, he began to throw caution into the wind. Had he been as alert as he had been earlier, he would have noticed that every creature in the area had evacuated and that the only sounds the night made were the whispers of the wind and the deep, growling breath of the hungry demon inside his cave.   
~  
  
Black Wargreymon instantly awoke. Something was outside approaching the cave so he got up to meet this threat. He glanced over at the Boy who had turned to him in his sleep and was now awake. Something inside Black Wargreymon surged and it was another feeling that he did not recognize. It was a feeling that had been in the cave earlier, when the mother Gorrillomon had been tending to the Boy's wounds.   
The creature made a loud entrance and lit a match to the mushroom lamp hanging from the ceiling. "I'm back!" it said before screaming in helpless terror. Black Wargreymon grabbed the creature, which he now recognized as a Gazimon, and shook it by the ankles as it wailed. He stopped almost immediately after, however, because the Boy had began his share of wailing and Black Wargreymon wasn't sure why. He thought that the Boy may have been in pain, but he had been given a strong herbal painkiller only a few hours ago.  
"What is it Boy?" he asked and the Boy stopped crying. The Boy shifted his eyes to the Gazimon and then back to Black Wargreymon.  
Black Wargreymon sighed. It hadn't taken him long to figure out what the Boy wanted. "You want to keep it, don't you?" he accused. But the Boy just closed his eyes. He supposed that he could use this Gazimon to tend to the Boy and to dress the Boy's wounds.   
"Can you mend?" he asked the Gazimon and it nodded slowly, unsure what to make of the situation. He had never seen such odd behavior from a Digimon that was universally declared as evil. Now he was resuscitating a boy from the Real World that he had nearly beaten to death - he just didn't know what to make of it all.   
"Good. Then I'll let you live. But if you try to leave, I will find you and kill you. If you try to kill the Boy or if the Boy dies while he's in your care, I'll kill you." With that promise, Black Wargreymon threw the Gazimon to the back of the cave and blew out the light with the wind from his nostrils.   
  
~  
Daisuke had skipped dinner and stayed up all night. He couldn't sleep because of his worry. He worried about Ken and he also worried that he might have triggered something horrible in the Digital World by telling adults about its existence.   
Hours passed and he lay on his bed facing the ceiling. He watched the city light cast eerie shadows overhead but they could not convince him to sleep. He could hear his Digimon's snores emanating from the floor and he could also hear Wormmon scuttling his claws against the ground.  
"Wormmon," he whispered, and the scuttling stopped. After his visit with Ken's parents, he'd needed a piece of Ken to make him feel better about the whole ordeal. Iori understood, of course, and Daisuke brought the worm home with him after a quick briefing on how to properly wrap his bandages. Strangely, after they had gone through the portal, Wormmon had not transformed into Minomon as he usually did. Koushirou's explanation had been simple; the worm was too weak to change between forms and the transformation could possibly cause more damage to his already strained tissues.   
Daisuke swung his feet over the feet and bent over to look at Wormmon. Wormmon met his gaze with large, sad eyes and whined a little. "You miss Ken," Daisuke said and lifted Wormmon gently into his lap. He petted one of the creature's claws with surprising patience and gentleness. "Me too," he said finally.  
Daisuke picked up his Digivice from nightstand and spoke quietly to Wormmon. "I'm going back now. I can't wait any longer. I can't do anything until I find him." The Digivice beeped in protest but Daisuke stood anyway and put Wormmon on his bed. He pointed it to his computer and said the magic words but he was not transported away. Instead the beam concentrated itself on Daisuke and he crumpled to the floor where he lay sleeping for the rest of the night.   
~  
Zogleck was in a poor mood. He had thousands of worshippers, thousands that feared him and catered to his every whim. However, his name was rarely mentioned amongst Digimon. All he ever heard those weaklings groan and fear about was Black Wargreymon. He'd had enough. Everyone knew that he was far superior, that he was far stronger and that his influence caused the strongest powers to whimper and fall to his mercy. Even the Digidestined and their Digital slaves were powerless to stop him. He thought of the boy he killed and smiled. He knew that if he told the Digidestined about who had caused the death of one of their own, the Digimon would spread word around quickly about the power Zogleck. All he had to do was find the little cretins and let them have the news.  
Zogleck lounged in the throne that he had made his slaves create for him. He was undoubtedly the biggest influence in the Digital World; his fortress gleamed and his servants were many. He realized that the only reason why he felt insecure was because of those dreadful Digidestined and his competition, Black Wargreymon.  
Zogleck had taken many of his torture ideas from Black Wargreymon. He'd sent servant after servant to spy on the black beast and many had not come back alive. He thought that perhaps now would be a good time for him to start spying on him again. Black Wargreymon seemed to have disappeared and no one that he encountered had seen him since the day that Zogleck killed that boy. Normally Zogleck would see this as a good thing, but he feared that his competitor was only hiding to make him *think* that he had disappeared from the area. However, in Black Wargreymon's sphere of influence there was not a creature in sight. Some slaves had reported movement late at night, but the movement ceased as suddenly as it began.  
Zogleck did not like to be played, especially by inferior beings. He rose from his throne and glided down to his set of monitors. Unlike leaders before him, Zogleck had tapped into the digital pattern of the sky, the trees and the earth and was able to see whatever roamed the land. He had a perfect visual of everything in the Digital World, but only when the Digidestined were not around. Somehow they managed to interfere with digital patterns, like the world was using a straining amount of energy to allow them to Zogleck's world.   
The monitors were blank, as they had been for days. He'd thought that the death of that Digidestined boy would cause the monitors to function again but it seemed that as long as the boy's body remained in his world it would cause the pattern disruption.  
He called forth a slave and asked it to bring his troops. They would try to find the body and figure out how to get rid of it. Unfortunately there were several complications with the process, including that the body had landed in Black Wargreymon's sphere of influence and the possibly of an encounter was extremely high.   
  
  
~  
  
Daisuke awoke in a blaze of heat. He felt his hand burn and he lifted it into his vision. Nothing. Yet it still burned fiery hot through his veins past the point of discomfort and on to the point of pain. He cried out, alarming the two Digimon beside him. The two Digimon could not help this boy as he screamed and were forced to take cover as Daisuke's mother and father thundered up the stairs. Chibimon pushed the larger Wormmon under the bed and covered them both with a stray bed sheet as Mr. and Mrs. Motomiya ran into the room.   
They were just in time to see the fire in Daisuke's veins travel from his fingertips and up his arms. The veins stretched and reddened in web-like patterns wherever the fire left its mark. Daisuke, not quite at the threshold of unconsciousness, screamed and beat his arm against his body as if he were trying to put out the fire.  
In the brief moment where his parents had entered the room they had already realized that there was nothing they could do. They saw blood in the redness, not fire, until they held his heated flesh. The webbing marked his shoulder and held onto his neck and squeezed his throbbing jugular. It wasn't until Daisuke stopped yelling and started choking on his breath that Chibimon noticed that the Digivice had become a flaming ball of heat. Amid the screams and the terror coming from the parents, Chibimon slipped to other side of the room in a ball of laundry disguise.   
While the Motomiya's struggled to aid their dying son with cups of water from the bathroom, Chibimon prodded the device with a numb little paw. He could see that the object was hot, hotter than the wooden floor it was burning a hole into and hotter than the plastic restaurant toys that melted in its proximity. However, since he was a Digimon of flames, it did nothing to his paw. He poked at a button or two, trying to get the thing to stop torturing his friend. Finally, in frustration, he picked it up and tossed it with all his might. It landed two feet in front of him with a soft clutter, mocking the little Digimon's display of strength. Chibimon cornered it and began to jump up and down on its surface in a way that was less than discrete. The Digivice let out a sharp sound, in protest perhaps, then its surface began to cool. As it cooled it blackened and Chibimon backed away from the image of evil.   
Daisuke, who had torn out some of his hair in his fit to control the blaze, was lying beaten on the floor with the tufts of brown hair he had pulled clenched tightly within his fist. His parents were frantically describing his symptoms to a doctor over the phone, begging him to come see their boy.   
The throbbing veins eclipsed his head and although they had lost their fiery passion, they remained as red as the fire that had touched them. Chibimon crossed the room to settle beside his friend who trembled slightly but remained awake. He then retreated back under the bed where Wormmon was looking on with wide-eyed terror.   
"Phone," Wormmon said to him, his voice still weak.  
"I don't know how," Chibimon said with tears in his eyes.   
"Teach," Wormmon reassured him and Chibimon snatched Daisuke's phone from under the nightstand. It was red, which was unnerving, but he took it with him anyway. Wormmon told him what buttons to push and suddenly he was calling Koushirou.  
"Hello?" Koushirou said as he picked up the phone.  
He was met by silence.  
"Hello?" He said again and Wormmon whispered, "say something!"  
"Koushirou?"  
"Chibimon?"  
"Something happened. You have to come over right away."  
"What happened?"  
"You'll see when you get here!"  
"All right, all right."  
"One more thing…"  
"What's that?"  
"You'll have to sneak in to see Daisuke. His parents are around."  
"I'll do my best."  
  
~  
  
Somehow, although Koushirou was considered to be a nerd by many, he always managed to get himself into the worse situations. At this moment he was dangling from the Motomiya's balcony, desperately trying to get a foothold. Up until now he had been unusually sneaky; he'd made up an excuse to get into the apartment below, he'd entered the apartment disguised as a carpenter, then headed to the balcony. There he found himself stuck and in danger of getting caught. Finally he swung his leg up at just the right height and managed to gracelessly deposit himself on the concrete surface. He glanced around quickly to see if anyone inside the house had registered the sound. Nothing moved. It seemed that the only person who had noticed his unremarkable entrance was an old lady a skyscraper over. She glared for a moment but then returned to her sunbathing as if nothing unusual had happened. Koushirou breathed a sigh of relief, grateful of the strangeness of his friend Daisuke that allowed him to get away with this.   
Koushirou opened the sliding door carefully, looked both ways, and then entered the apartment. Everyone appeared to be upstairs in Daisuke's room, which was where Koushirou needed to be too. It was then that he called in his distraction, a weary Yamato who had been up all night peeling. Yamato rang the doorbell with a touch of urgency while Koushirou ducked behind a sofa. Lucky for him, both parents raced down the stairs, hoping that the doctor had finally arrived. Koushirou slid up the stairs and dove into Daisuke's bedroom.  
Daisuke was lying on his bed, on top of his sheets. He was in his boxers and Koushirou could easily see the raw red veins peeking out from under his skin. The boy whimpered painfully and Koushirou stood frozen in the middle of the room.  
Chibimon emerged from under the bed and demanded that Koushirou hide in the closet. He did, but he took the Digimon with him.   
"What happened to him?"  
"Last night we were going to go back into the Digital World…"  
"Hey!"  
"…but Daisuke's Digivice went nuts and he just fell asleep. And when he woke up, it was there was fire in his veins. He was screaming from the pain. I think it's because of the Digivice. It was on fire for a while too and afterwards it turned black. I don't know what's going on…" The little Digimon's eyes welled with tears.   
Koushirou didn't know what to think. He'd seen a lot of strange things in the Digital World before and a lot of Digimon had tried to kill him, but his Digivice remained a secure item from that world. Chibimon, who had bravely picked the black-as-coal instrument off the floor where it was smoldering, gave it to Koushirou for inspection.   
"It's pure black," he marveled, turning it over. "Not even Ken's Digivice was pure black."   
"Last night when the Digivice made Daisuke sleep, I think it was trying to help him. But this is the mark of evil."  
"I wonder if I can turn it on?" Koushirou wondered and began to poke at the buttons just as Chibimon had. Nothing happened.   
Koushirou turned it in his hands once more, then removed a screwdriver from his pocket. "You aren't going to take it apart are you?" Chibimon worried. He was afraid of the Digivice and what it might contain.   
"Well, then what am I doing here? I'm supposed to be figuring this out."  
"You're the genius! You tell me!"  
At that point the Motomiya's re-entered, their faces full of worry. Mrs. Motomiya went straight to her son, who could only tremble as she spoke to him. She took his hand and tried to rub the red lines away, but they remained a symbol of the torture of her son.   
Another person then set foot in the room. He was a heavy set, well-dressed man whose presence assumed intellectualism. He sauntered over to Daisuke's bedside and looked worriedly at the child.   
"It's like nothing I've ever seen before," he began, "I don't know what to make of this."   
"Oh please doctor, you have to do something!"  
The doctor removed a needle from the case he was carrying. Daisuke screeched as it penetrated his skin and bled profusely from the small hole that the doctor had created. The doctor used a wad of gauze to stop the bleeding and put the sample into his case. He took the child's temperature as he squirmed and shrieked, but everything seemed normal other than the strange coloring of the child's veins.   
Koushirou meanwhile contemplated the Digivice in the closet. With his long legs tucked up under his chin, he decided that since the Digivice belonged to Daisuke, Daisuke would probably be the only one able to use its powers. He assumed that if he opened it up, it would reveal nothing. Or worse, the flames could be trapped inside of it, waiting to peel off his face.   
  
~  
  
Black Wargreymon looked worriedly at the Boy. The Boy had grown more ill over night and the Gazimon had spent most his time taming the infection. The weary Digimon had Black Wargreymon bring fresh water from the lake but there was nothing else the large Digimon could do with his tremendous claws.   
He was now settled beside the Boy, whose face was twisted in agony. The wounds on his legs were causing them to swell and puss and his arm had been nearly impossible to set properly. The bones would heal slowly because of the other wounds, however they would have to be broken again in order for the arm to be set in a position that would allow it to be functional. Black Wargreymon knew it would be for the best, but he really didn't want the Boy to suffer anymore.  
The Gazimon had exited the cave ten minutes ago, in search of certain herbs he hoped would ease the Boy's pain. Black Wargreymon had given him a warning: if he wasn't back in the cave in a half an hour, he would find him, tear a slit in his gut and ingest the Gazimon's intestines until he died. The Gazimon did not take the threat as an empty one.   
"Where's Daisuke?" the Boy asked suddenly, opening one of his swollen eyes. He put his broken hand on Black Wargreymon's arm and gasped when he found crying to be painful.  
"Who's that?" Black Wargreymon asked, trying to keep his voice steady. He'd seen the torture of baby Digimon, mothers, fathers, and children - he thought long ago that he'd be immune to this kind of pain. The difference with the Boy was that Black Wargreymon was sure that he was an important part of his destiny. If he wasn't, Black Wargreymon would have just laughed and moved on. He was so sure that he'd found something spectacular, even if he didn't know why.  
"Friend," was the answer before the Boy rolled his eyes into the back of his head and twitched uncontrollably. Black Wargreymon held a claw against the Boy's raven-colored head until the tremors subsided. Where is that wretched little Gazimon, Black Wargreymon wondered.   
Outside the cave, the Gazimon returned, passing by the pool in such a hurry that he didn't notice the light emanating from it. Diving under the digital rift lay the black Digivice of a Digidestined clinging to life. Although broken, it did not fail to send the beam of light to help its master. The dark forces slipped away from its light and collected at the bottom of the pool like seashells. 


	9. The Hour of Our Moment

To those wondering way back in the last chapter what happened to my wrist - I crushed it playing basketball. It was a very stupid accident. But thanks for your concern. Enjoy the story and expect a new chapter sooner this time. Love y'all for being so patient.  
  
The Hour of Our Moment  
  
Black Wargreymon awoke to the sun in his eyes and a rather unpleasant smell. He sat up and sniffed the air around him, nearly gagging.   
  
"What smells?" he demanded loudly.  
  
The Gazimon stirred from his slumber, but the Boy remained his feverish sleep. "I believe that's the smell of hot sick."  
  
"Don't get smart with me," Black Wargreymon warned. He leaned over and smelled the Boy, then nearly gagged again.   
  
"I wasn't going to say anything because I was afraid you'd turn me into a carcass, but now that you've noticed, the kid needs a bath. Badly."  
  
"Well, get to it then. You're supposed to be taking care of that, slave."  
  
"He's too big. I can't carry him."  
  
Black Wargreymon sighed. He'd expected to get good help from a Gazimon. What was he thinking? He supposed that it would be better for him to handle the Boy instead of the Gazimon because Gazimon were notoriously clumsy and careless.   
  
Carrying the Boy turned out to be more of a challenge than he expected. The Boy's body was still badly broken and Black Wargreymon had to be careful to arrange the Boy's limbs in a certain way so that they would not be damaged further. His claws were large enough to accommodate the Boy's limp body, but they were sharp and uncomfortable against such a frail creature's skin. The Gazimon wrapped the Boy's body in his blanket and Black Wargreymon scooped him up, lifting slowly and gently.   
  
When they got to the pond, Black Wargreymon had the Gazimon test the water. The afternoon sun had heated the pond water to make it comfortably lukewarm. Black Wargreymon put the Boy on the grass so that the Gazimon could remove his bandages. The Boy remained in a deep sleep, but Black Wargreymon was confident that the water would rouse him a little bit.   
  
The Gazimon started removing the Boy's bandages with too much haste causing Black Wargreymon to lean menacingly into his face. "Slow down!" he growled, allowing saliva to slip through the cracks of his bared teeth.   
  
The Gazimon, startled, dropped some of the bandages into the pool. As they sank to the bottom, Black Wargreymon growled discontentedly. The Gazimon just shrugged and pointed out that they needed to be washed too.   
  
When the Gazimon finished, he stepped back, waiting for Black Wargreymon to pick the Boy up and put him into the pool. Black Wargreymon paused for a moment, just staring at the Boy's broken skin and tousled hair. He took one of his claws and ran it gently through the Boy's hair, over the Boy's cheek and across the expanse of pale, bloodied and bruised skin. He watched the Boy's lips move and waited for the Boy to scrunch his face up, like he did when he was in a lot of pain. Nothing. For some reason he wanted to know what those battered lips were trying to tell him. Until then he'd just settle for silence.   
  
Black Wargreymon lifted the Boy back into his arms and crouched by pool. He dipped the Boy's feet in first and gauged the expression on his little face. It didn't change, so Black Wargreymon held him in up to his waist. When he was satisfied that the Boy was not uncomfortable with the temperature of the water, he let the Boy in the rest of the way, up to his shoulders. The Boy could not possibly hold up his own weight, so Black Wargreymon carefully propped him up against the edge of the pond.   
  
The Gazimon began to bathe the Boy; every now and then he shot a glance in Black Wargreymon's direction, who was watching him like a hawk. Black Wargreymon had been right about the water; the Boy had opened his eyes a third of the way and was gazing at the scenery. Black Wargreymon stood over him, casting a shadow over the Boy so that he would not burn under the full sun. Creatures that lived in the pool drifted to the far end, away from the Boy; they were wary of the terrifying presence of Black Wargreymon like all Digimon were those days.   
  
Black Wargreymon could not believe how much dirt and blood washed off of the Boy. His hair had been especially bad; out of it came dirt and grass accumulated from the fall and small bugs from inside the cave that had taken up residence near the Boy's warm scalp. Black Wargreymon was angry with himself - how could he have not noticed this before?   
  
The Boy seemed oblivious of the grime that was being scrubbed off of him. He kept looking into the distance through the tiny slits of his eyelids, his long hair obscuring the view even more. Black Wargreymon was fascinated by the Boy's hair. Now that it had been cleaned it looked vibrant and silky. It turned out to be dark blue instead of the black color Black Wargreymon had been seeing previously. He adored the way it was cut and the way it hung around the Boy's face.   
  
Black Wargreymon stopped himself. He could not believe he was getting so attached to someone. However, no one could convince him that the survival and the well being of the Boy was not part of his destiny. He no longer was a slave or a mindless drone that drifted from town to town, killing and maiming for no good reason at all. The Boy was a symbol of consequence; Black Wargreymon saw how violence could change someone's life. In the past Black Wargreymon may have slashed something in the throat and moved on, never caring about the impact on the creature. Whatever had happened to the Boy was not Black Wargreymon's fault, but he felt compelled to stay with the Boy and witness his struggle to live. He imagined that the Boy might have loved to run and play and participate in all sorts of mindless activities like most humans did. Now here he was, unable to move at all on his own. He couldn't tell himself to move on, to forget about it. For the first time in his short life he actually cared about the fate of another creature. He actually respected another creature's life. He didn't feel the same way about the Gazimon, but hell, he was learning.   
  
"It's blue," the Boy said suddenly.  
  
"Uh huh, kid," the Gazimon answered distractedly, "blue."  
  
Black Wargreymon looked straight ahead and saw nothing blue but the water (well, not so much anymore) and the clear sunny sky.   
  
"So, kid," the Gazimon said, "what's your name?"  
  
Black Wargreymon turned to the Gazimon. "His name is the Boy," he said gruffly.  
  
"You named him "The Boy"?" the Gazimon scoffed.  
  
"That's right," Black Wargreymon puffed out his chest.  
  
"Uh, oh, okay," the Gazimon surrendered, suddenly terrified.  
  
The Boy ignored them both. "Was black," he said before his eyes rolled back into his head and he lost consciousness.  
  
~  
  
Daisuke's eyes opened but his mind remained trapped in the realms of sleep. He turned his head toward his bedroom window and allowed his eyes to see nothing. His fingers twitched and his lungs took deep, satisfied breaths from the oxygen mask that had been lovingly placed over his mouth and nose. He did not blink; he was dead except for the steady rhythm of his chest moving up and down, down and up. His veins still pulsed, although painlessly. They remained red as though the labored breaths Daisuke took served no purpose to his body. The color appeared to fade by the hour, but the red in Daisuke's eyes remained as vibrant as ever.   
  
Daisuke took one heaving breath before his eyelids fluttered and he could see again. The image of the sky just outside his window blurred and wavered into clarity. It was a beautiful day, as far as he could tell. There were no clouds in the sky except for one black smear that rose like a sunrise on the left side of his field of view. It looked as though a god had blackened his thumb with ink and had smudged it across the cheek of the sky. Daisuke knew better than to call it a cloud. He knew that it was a rift; it was something ominous and damning that demanded the attention of the Digidestined. For some reason it reminded him of Ken.   
  
He tried to sit up, tried to call attention to himself - but to no avail. His arms and legs lay stubbornly where they were and refused to move when he demanded them to. His energy wilted as he strained to regain control of his stubborn limbs. If he tried to move his right thumb, his left forefinger would wiggle instead. His parched throat whistled around the oxygen mask but Daisuke couldn't muster a sound louder than the air escaping through his mouth.  
  
Koushirou took this opportunity to explode out of the closet. He thrust the doors open and tumbled out, breathing heavily and nearly crushing Chibimon and a very wilted Wormmon. Daisuke looked in Koushirou's direction and blinked rapidly - which was the only movement he could control. Koushirou didn't notice, however. He was still deliberating whether he should break open Daisuke's Digivice or leave behind uncharted territory.   
  
"What makes me think I can open this damn thing anyway?" he asked himself, frowning. "It's been through fights, fires, Daisuke mishaps - a screwdriver isn't going make enough of a difference." He pulled a screwdriver out of his pocket despite reason and began to shove it roughly into one of the Digivice's slots.   
  
"Hey! Be careful with that!" Chibimon said, his eyes widening in terror. Not only did they have no idea what was inside or what could jump out and kill them, but also the Digivice was crucial to Chibimon's existence. What would happen to him if it were destroyed?  
  
Koushirou jammed the screwdriver as far in as it would go, then tried to pull off the top. It stayed where it was, but Koushirou did manage to put a small crack in the screen. The Digivice (or perhaps its inhabitants) shrieked high and loud in displeasure. The crack widened and screamed as Daisuke had earlier. Koushirou dropped the Digivice and ran to hide behind Daisuke's bed with Chibimon and Wormmon, who had sensibly retreated while Koushirou was trying to pull the top off the Digivice.  
  
The crack seemed to pulse in time with Daisuke's veins. Daisuke felt his fear returning; if it chose to attack him again, he would be dead in ten minutes, he was sure of it. As the crack pulsed, it also widened; it was an unfamiliar, alien thing like the fire in Daisuke's veins. Usually a crack grows when it is aggravated, like a crack on a windshield in winter. The Digivice's crack widened instead, like a mouth preparing to vomit. Like the mouth of a cave, it was dark and its contents were invisible in its shadow.   
  
That all changed in an instant. Out of the mouth came black ooze; it was a substance similar to hot tar, except that it had intent. It had a mind. As it crawled, it shimmered and flattened until it was as close to the floor as possible. Then it split itself into quarters and continued to split until it appeared as though Daisuke had drawn hundreds of black raindrops on his floor. The raindrops looked less than two dimensional, however. And they smelled like fire and evil.  
  
The little black raindrops seemed to pause and assess the room, as if they were deciding where to go. No one in the room spoke to one another, but they all felt the same thing. It was not insane to think that a black blob could think and could be evil. Not if you've been to the Digital World.  
  
The raindrops suddenly dispersed; they spread throughout the room, scampered up the walls, across the ceiling and across the floor. Koushirou, Chibimon and Wormmon didn't even have a moment to jump off of the floor out of the way. They felt the blackness pass underneath and it took away their breath. Their eyes immediately reddened and burned uncomfortably, even though the touch had lasted less than a moment.   
  
Other than the burning in their eyes, Koushirou and the Digimon could not find any evidence that the blackness had even been there at all. Besides, of course, there was the boy in the bed.   
  
Chibimon turned to Koushirou. "Look what you did! You released a monster! At least when it was in Daisuke's Digivice we knew where it was!"  
  
Koushirou lowered his head and rubbed his eyes. "I was just trying to help. How was I supposed to know?" He turned to Daisuke and shoved a thumb in his direction, "what would have happened to him if we had left that thing in his Digivice? It could have killed him! Or maybe even you."  
  
"But now it's gone. How are we going to find it?"  
  
"Well, if it liked to inhabit humans and Digimon it would have stayed here and had its fill of us. It seems to only inhabit Digivices. Which is why we have to inform all of the other Digidestined and make sure that no one uses their Digivice until it's safe."  
  
"If it likes to live in Digivices, why didn't it shack up in your Digivice?" Chibimon asked.  
  
Koushirou's lips became a thin line on his face. "I left mine at home."  
  
The room fell silent, except for the tiny whisper coming from Daisuke. The black smudge in the sky, the one on Daisuke's left, swallowed another helping of the blackness and grew.   
  
~  
  
Mrs. Ichijouji sat in her favorite rocking chair, swaying gently as she flipped through the pages of her photo album. The chair was her favorite simply because it was positioned in such a way that all she had to do to see her son's bedroom door was turn her head. It was something hopeful to her; it allowed her to wish the door open and to see her gentle son emerge to wonder when dinner would be.   
  
The chair also allowed her to think, which was not always the best thing for her piece of mind. The rhythmic swaying, the photos in her lap - they taunted her into thinking that she was a bad mother. She had seen the admiration in Ken's eyes; it was a look he saved for his brother. Maybe if she hadn't been so hard on Osamu they could have spent more time together. She could see that was all that Ken had ever wanted. Instead, Osamu stayed in his room between endless stacks of books with his brother on the floor beside him as quiet as a child his age could be.   
  
It wasn't just that she and her husband forced Osamu into his studies and punished Ken for disturbing his brother, but also that Ken was systematically ignored. As a mother it was difficult for her to admit that she had loved one child more than the other just because one was a genius and the other wasn't. Not just yet, anyway. So she focused her energy on Osamu, ignoring Ken as he did his best to grasp some of the attention that his brother was receiving.  
  
As her chair rocked her she remembered an example of such a time. It was a snowy, winter afternoon; Osamu had a big test the next day and he was suffering from a terrible head cold. He could barely open his eyes long enough to read a sentence in his books. Ken, however, was bursting with energy. He wanted to be brought to the park so that he could make a snowman. Mrs. Ichijouji suggested that he make one out of the snow on their balcony, but Ken had already tried and there wasn't enough snow for the Osamu-sized snowman he wanted to create.   
  
After a while, Osamu had given up on his books and was winding his way through the hallway. Mrs. Ichijouji touched a palm to his head and dragged him over to the couch. As she fed him some vegetable soup, Ken bounded into the living, wearing his outdoor gear. He'd put his gloves on first and was having difficulty managing the zipper.  
  
"Mama!" he shouted. "Mama!"  
  
"What?" she snapped, turning away from Osamu.  
  
"Zipper's stuck," he said, fumbling with his gloves over the zipper to prove his point.  
  
"Just let me finish here," she said, turning back to Osamu. She could see that her eldest son was about to vomit and she ran into the kitchen to find a bowl. When she came back, the vomit was on the floor, Osamu was crying and Ken's zipper was still stuck.   
  
She gave Osamu the bowl and rubbed his stomach before getting a rag to clean up the mess. As she cleaned, Osamu continued to be sick and Ken continued on about his zipper.  
  
"Mama!" he shouted. "Mama, it will only take a minute. Please, I want to go outside before the snow melts."  
  
She could have said, 'it'll take a long time before that happens dear' or 'I don't want the carpet to stain dear' or 'I'll give you a treat if you're patient dear'…  
  
"MAMA!"  
  
"GET OUT! Go outside now! I'm sick of you!" …is what she said instead.  
  
That wasn't the worst of it, oh no.  
  
Between cleaning the carpet, getting Osamu to bed, calling the doctor, washing the dishes and doing the laundry - she had somehow forgotten that she'd left her youngest son outside in the freezing cold. It was a phone call from her husband that jogged her memory. He had called home from work, asking about the kids. She went on and on about how sick Osamu was and when he had asked about Ken, her heart leapt in her throat. She then lied to her husband, she couldn't even remember what she said, and hung up the phone. Mrs. Ichijouji raced outside and found her little boy just outside the front door, sleeping next to a miniature snowman, his tears frozen onto his reddened face.   
  
As she rocked she remembered a little bit more; she lied to her husband a little bit more, she bit her nails a little more and she cried a little bit more. Both of her babies went to the hospital that day but she remained by Osamu's side, holding his hand instead of Ken's because Ken's hand felt like guilt and betrayal and she couldn't break down in front of the entire human race.   
  
Six days later, when Ken woke up, he couldn't even remember what had happened. Mrs. Ichijouji had prepared a little speech and everything, begging him not to tell his father the truth. The speech became unnecessary that day, and Mrs. Ichijouji tucked it in the back of her mind where she kept most her guilt about Osamu's studies. She then lied to Ken too, who smiled and called himself stupid and careless. She simply nodded.   
  
When they returned from the hospital, only a lump of the snowman's tiny body was left. Ken didn't seem to know that it used to be his snowman; he stepped on it with his tiny snow boots before entering their home. Mrs. Ichijouji had the urge to lift her son into her arms but she didn't want to alarm her husband, who was blissfully oblivious to what she had done. She heard the door lock shut behind her and thought of her son outside in the snow, his zipper undone and his chest exposed to the cold. In her mind's eye she saw him cry silently as he sat in a pile of snow, building his little snowman. She saw him get cold and sleepy; a little boy too terrified to knock on the door and beg his mother to let him back inside.   
  
Somehow the photo album had been turned to the last page. She sighed and turned the book over, opening again to the first page. Osamu smiled back at her in every picture. His smiles never seemed honest; they always seemed to betray how he was feeling. She wished she had given her son the strength to say something about what he was feeling. Before she could stop herself on that snowy afternoon, she had taken this strength from Ken. For the first time she realized that turning Ken into Osamu was the worst thing she could have ever done to him.  
  
She was a bad mother.  
  
~  
  
With the Boy safely back inside the cave and wrapped in bandages and blankets, Black Wargreymon could return to his thoughts. He'd been thinking about the Digidestined lately, and their lousy, weakling Digimon. He looked down at the Boy and wondered how such a sweet, helpless being could ever have brainwashed a Digimon into believing that he was to serve him. Black Wargreymon saw these children throwing their Digimon slaves into the rounds of fire and felt repulsed. To him, Digimon were meant to be freethinking and savage. At least, that was what he used to think. As he looked at the Boy he realized that there had to be some sort of partnership with a little give and take. The Boy was allowed to live and to recover while Black Wargreymon…well he wasn't exactly sure what he was getting out of this, but it was changing him.  
  
He wondered what had happened to the Boy's Digimon slave. It probably served its duty and died trying to protect its owner, Black Wargreymon thought. He'd seen these slaves fight to the death for their owners before, all because of a shiny metal egg like the one he'd thrown into the lake. He'd even heard that these slave Digimon were compelled to save the Digital World in several occasions. At first he had thought that the slaves were wasting away their lives by devoting themselves to someone that could care less if they lived or died. He had even felt disgusted when the Digimon called it an honor to be chosen for the Digidestined. The Digidestined he had seen were ruthless and cunning. They shouted commands they'd trained their Digimon slaves to follow and defeated their enemies quickly and without harm to themselves. Black Wargreymon had never seen the Boy fight alongside these particular Digidestined. He was a loner, just like Black Wargreymon, with his own, more noble agendas. In fact, Black Wargreymon could actually see himself serving as a protector of the Boy for the rest of his life. He would find it… fulfilling.   
  
As Black Wargreymon thought, he failed to notice a rustle in the shrubs outside of the cave. A spy, sent from Zogleck's kingdom to locate the black beast, huddled there. He was shielded by a cloak of invisible skin and was nearly impossible to see. Instead of running back to his master and reporting Black Wargreymon's location, he remained crouched in the bushes, forced into it by a bout of brutal curiosity. He could barely fathom the strangeness of the scene in front of him: Black Wargreymon hovering over another creature in a protective gesture instead of a deadly one. The look in Black Wargreymon's eyes was tender and loving and to top it off, he was in the presence of a Gazimon for more than an hour and not once did he try to swipe the creature's head off.  
  
The spy began to second-guess his orders. This was not the brutal killer he'd been sent out to detect. He must have made a mistake; the beast before him was not Black Wargreymon, the traitorous murderer Zogleck had once defeated, but another creature that had the misfortune of being identical to him.  
  
The spy decided that it would be best for him to go back to Zogleck's fortress and to report the location of the creature - without neglecting to mention that it may be a clone of the infamous Black Wargreymon. As far as the spy knew, Black Wargreymon had been a simple creation to begin with and was probably very easy to duplicate.  
  
He moved quickly away from the mouth of the cave, not wanting to push his luck any further. However, Black Wargreymon had finally caught on and had heard the gentle rustle in the bushes that was too brisk to have been the wind. 


	10. Where The Heart Is

This will be the last chapter for a while, folks. I'm moving from a town to a city and starting university there. I hope you enjoy this - it written outside in the blazing sun with my laptop. It's not done yet, the little monster, but hopefully I can finish before I die. On that lovely note, read on good friends. I hope I don't disappoint you.  
  
Where The Heart Is  
  
The first snowflake drifted aimlessly in the late afternoon sky, falling faster than the frozen leaves of a lifeless digital tree. It continued its reckless path, traveling an unfathomable distance for such a small object, before landing on Black Wargreymon's nose and dying from the heat of his breath. Its death sparked a chain reaction as more tufts of snow were released from their cloud captors to cover the dry earth. Afternoon gave way to evening and the mounds of snow thickened and twinkled as the wind began to blow.  
  
Black Wargreymon sat at the mouth of the cave with his formidable arms stretched as far as they would go. With the arrival of the snow came the return of the Boy's vicious fever and the Gazimon was trying everything to keep his fever down. So he convinced Black Wargreymon that sitting in front of the cave to block the wind and snow from entering would help him control the Boy's fever or at least keep it from getting any worse. All they had for supplies now were a few medicinal herbs, some used bandages and one blanket that only covered the Boy when he curled into a fetal position.  
  
Black Wargreymon sensed that they would have to move soon. He had not expected the weather to change so quickly but this was the digital world, after all. Things changed in strange ways here and the creatures were just as unpredictable as the weather. They had found themselves in the middle of one of the worst weather zones, the Gazimon told him. In this part of the Digital World, seasons changed almost every week and they did not follow a natural order. Fall could follow winter, summer could precede spring. This was because the Digital World was divided into specific weather quadrants and each quadrant had a different season occurring at a different time. The divisions of these weather quadrants met at a center point. At the center point, all four seasons occur at the same time. Black Wargreymon, of course, had wound up in a part of the center point which had just started winter. If they traveled further north, the Gazimon informed him, they would run into summer again.  
  
The weather wasn't the only reason why they needed to travel. Black Wargreymon knew that the Digimon were looking for either him or the Boy and now they knew where they were hiding. Normally Black Wargreymon would have stayed and fought, but he had the Boy to think about and there was no way in hell he was going to leave the Boy under the protection of the Gazimon. He thought about his enemies using the Boy as a weapon, holding their hands to his throat and clutching him until he could no longer breathe. The Gazimon would flee and he would be left with nothing.  
  
Traveling with a sick human in such treacherous conditions would pose several risks. Black Wargreymon was the only member of the group that could defend himself. He would probably end up defending the Boy and letting the Gazimon die in the hands of enemies. It seemed to be a fitting death for a coward. There was also no guarantee that the Boy would live if they exposed him to the blistering cold; his condition was already worsening even though Black Wargreymon was blocking the worst of the cold from entering the cave. Black Wargreymon didn't want to see the Boy die but he'd have to choose between the two risks. Either they stayed in the cave and risked being attacked by throngs of Digimon or they ventured out in the cold before their enemies could find them. It was a difficult decision to make and time seemed to be slipping away.  
  
Inside the cave the Gazimon was complaining about how cold he was as the Boy shivered violently beside him. That gave Black Wargreymon an idea. He called the Gazimon over to the mouth of the cave and explained to him what was going to happen.  
  
"You're joking. Please tell me that you're joking," was the astonished reply.  
  
"I'm not joking. I don't joke. You just do exactly what I tell you to do and you'll live. If you refuse, I'll kill you. I don't need you alive for this."  
  
The Gazimon sighed and sat down next to Black Wargreymon at the mouth of the cave. Black Wargreymon tested his claws on the rock face of the cave to make sure that they were sharp enough to do the deed. He then swiftly brought them down on the Gazimon's sides and sliced through the fur, being careful not to cut through to the delicate flesh underneath. At some point the Gazimon had begun to cry and Black Wargreymon did his best not to cut him as the Gazimon's body shook. As the cold teased his newly-exposed skin the Gazimon screamed and tried to stumble back inside the cave. This earned him a cut on the bum and a growl from Black Wargreymon.  
  
When he finished he forced the tearful Gazimon to go back inside the cave and wrap the Boy up in the fur. He promised to carry the Gazimon during their trip in exchange for the fur. If he forced the Gazimon to walk, he knew that it would die. He still needed it to care for the Boy and it would be difficult to find another weakling Digimon capable of helping. Besides, without his fur the Gazimon would never be accepted back into a group and his leader would take advantage of his unnatural nudity by making him into a consort. Black Wargreymon had seen these things happen on his journeys; a breath of cruelty lurked in every kind of Digimon. They loved to degrade their own kind and watch the sufferers die alone. They also loved to make little Digidestined boys bleed. Black Wargreymon glanced over his shoulder at the Boy, who was moaning and kicking in his feverish sleep. He wondered how these violent urges could be something so natural and instinctive.  
  
Black Wargreymon sauntered to the back of the cave to inspect the Gazimon's work. For a child, the Boy had very long legs and arms. The Gazimon had managed to cover the places where heat was lost and needed, but the Boy's legs remained without fur. So the Gazimon just wrapped his legs with his old dirty blanket and hoped for the best.  
  
The Boy remained feverish; his face was red in places that were not covered by the Gazimon's thick fur. Black Wargreymon made the decision to move now, before the Boy got even worse and they wouldn't be able to move him at all.  
  
Dark approached slowly over the glistening mounds of snow, touching the tips of the trees, then slowly moving to soak the trunks with night. The snow continued to pour from the navy blue sky creating vivid contrast to the coming evening. Not a creature sighed; they had all traveled earlier, sensing the arrival of a snowfall. Most creatures living in the center had no families or were not planning to stay in the center very long. These creature enjoyed traveling often and living in different environments. They made no friends, these travelers, because they had all been betrayed by other Digimon of their kind who were only looking out for themselves.  
  
Black Wargreymon made the very first footprint in the snow; his weight caused him to sink knee-deep into it and he was not too pleased. His steps had to be carefully thought out because if he fell, the two creatures in his arms would die of exposure. One, of course, he did not care much about. In fact, the Gazimon was making his stomach roar. A skinned Gazimon used to be dinner, but this one had been upgraded to slave.  
  
The next few steps Black Wargreymon took were a little bit easier. He was getting used to the thickness of the snow and was able to predict how deep his next footstep would sink. The Gazimon kept squirming against him from being so exposed to the intolerable cold. Black Wargreymon growled at him and squeezed him closer to his chest before taking another step on the frozen earth.  
  
He could feel the life inside of the Boy too. The heat of his breath burned at Black Wargreymon's metallic exterior as did the warmth of the Boy's cheeks. He could feel the little heart thumping in his chest; it was slightly erratic and rapid as if the Boy was marching alongside of him instead of traveling in his arms. At some point their heartbeats matched and Black Wargreymon was shocked to discover that his body had a vestigial heart. It continued to mimic the heartbeat of the Boy but Black Wargreymon wasn't sure that he liked the life that his heart suddenly possessed. Maybe he was allowing himself to be too aware of his newly functioning heart, he thought.  
  
The Boy moaned and Black Wargreymon turned his attention back to him. He readjusted the Boy's head so that it settled in the crook of his elbow, but the Boy continued to moan. His eyes opened suddenly and he tried to speak; his little mouth formed words that Black Wargreymon could not hear. Tears glistened at the bottom of the Boy's deep blue eyes as he struggled to communicate with the metal monster. At first Black Wargreymon thought that maybe the Boy was trying to tell him that the infection was starting to spread again, but that was something that Black Wargreymon already knew.  
  
The Boy's fear met with frustration and together they began to open a bond unique to the Digidestined and their Digimon partners. Through that bond the Boy sent his message with undeniable urgency, praying that it wouldn't take Black Wargreymon long to figure out what he had done.  
  
It hadn't. Black Wargreymon knew in an instant that he was now sharing his mind with someone else, someone completely unintrusive. Black Wargreymon felt the Boy skip right past his thoughts, aware that the Boy could read them at any time if he chose to. It was part of Black Wargreymon's persona to be mysterious and ruthless and if the Boy knew that he wasn't any of those things - he wasn't sure what might happen.  
  
The Boy didn't seem to be interested, however. He went straight to the area in which he could project his message the loudest. Black Wargreymon felt the Boy take in some of his, Black Wargreymon's, energy and manipulate that energy to form what he had been trying to say.  
  
*They're back.*  
  
Black Wargreymon stopped with his foot in midair as the Boy sent him images of the translucent creatures that had once poisoned him. In these images one of the creatures, presumably their leader, held the Boy by his throat and choked him. It laughed as the Boy dangled helplessly from the edge of a cliff and then the image blurred. But Black Wargreymon didn't need images to know what had happened next.  
  
*THEY'RE BACK*  
  
He felt his anger rise but he would not stay to fight. He began to run instead, continuing north like they had planned as the Boy drifted back into a fitful sleep.  
  
~  
  
" They're back," Wormmon said suddenly.  
  
Koushirou, who was still crouched behind Daisuke's bed, jumped up and yelled, "Where? Where?"  
  
"No, no..." Wormmon moaned. His claws racked against the wooden floor.  
  
Koushirou jumped up onto the bed causing Daisuke to groan in protest as the bed shifted. "Stay back!" Koushirou yelled, raising his scrawny arms.  
  
"Ken-chan..." Wormmon's scuttling became more urgent. "They're back..."  
  
Koushirou stopped his frantic arm movements. "Ken is alive? Wormmon are you talking to Ken?"  
  
"I don't," Wormmon wheezed loudly, cutting himself off, "know."  
  
Koushirou groaned in frustration. He picked Wormmon and Chibimon up off the floor and sat down beside them on the bed. Daisuke wiggled around under his sheets before squirming into a sitting position. He rubbed his face and his aching arms but his eyes remained red and his arms were still sore. Chibimon waddled over to his friend and clutched Daisuke's hand with his tiny little paw.  
  
"Hey," Koushirou greeted and Daisuke smiled softly.  
  
"Hi," Daisuke whispered, his voice still hoarse from screaming. "I think I know what Wormmon's saying."  
  
Koushirou leaned forward and Wormmon continued to wiggle in his arms.  
  
"Whoever attacked Wormmon and Ken is after Ken again. They're getting really close. Actually, I'm not sure they even know if Ken's still alive. They're just heading toward him very quickly. I'm very confused."  
  
"So Ken's still alive?"  
  
"I'm still not sure that Ken's alive. They might be after his... his body. All I know for sure is that they're back and they're heading in Ken's direction."  
  
"How do you know this?"  
  
"I think it's the black stuff. I can sense evil in the Digital World, but I can't sense Ken. I think Wormmon's lost that bond too."  
  
Wormmon nodded.  
  
"That could mean that Ken is dead or that he's using all of his energy to bond with someone else."  
  
"I sent a message to Ken-chan," Wormmon mumbled, "they're back. If he's alive he must know because without me he can't sense the evil."  
  
"Who are these creatures Wormmon? What kind of evil attacked you and Ken?"  
  
"They were like nothing I've ever seen. Barely Digimon. All of their parts were in the wrong places and they were even stranger than Black Wargreymon. Their touch was poison.." Wormmon's eyes filled with tears. "They tortured Ken-chan and threw him off a cliff. He didn't even do anything wrong...he tried so hard to make up for.." Wormmon burst into tears and Koushirou held him close. The sound alerted Daisuke's mom, however, and she came rushing up the stairs. Koushirou went back inside the closet with Wormmon still in his arms and Chibimon ducked under the bed.  
  
"Daisuke! What are you doing sitting up? You should be resting!" Mrs. Motomiya rushed to her son's side and pulled him into a strong hug.  
  
"Mom! I don't want to sleep anymore. I'm not tired."  
  
"Oh, look at your eyes! You poor thing."  
  
"They don't bother me," Daisuke lied, rubbing them with his fists. His mother pulled his hands away from his stinging eyes. She put her hands on his face and peered closely at the swollen veins. Daisuke whined and swatted her away. She smoothed his hair and kissed him on the forehead, then started to leave so that she could make her son some tea.  
  
Daisuke could hear Koushirou giggling in the closet and he growled. He readjusted the pillows against his back and waited for his mother to return.  
  
~  
  
Yamato lay on his back trying to avoid picking at his healing sunburn. His face itched but his arms and legs still were painfully sore. Every time he contracted his muscles they stiffened, so he just stayed where he was and tried not to move at all. His brother came by every once in a while with a drink or a snack so that he wouldn't have to get up and go downstairs to the kitchen. The bathroom was just a short walk across the hall - a short walk that Yamato tried to avoid.  
  
His brother entered the room again to give Yamato some oatmeal lotion for his burn. Yamato examined his brother's expression as he began to remove Yamato's dirty dishes. He could see that Takeru was troubled - he had been ever since Ken disappeared.  
  
Takeru caught his brother staring at him and shot him a look. "I'm not putting the lotion on you."  
  
"Oh come on!"  
  
"No." Takeru left the room with the dishes and Yamato continued to stare at the ceiling until his Digivice began beeping. He considered just ignoring it; the last time he answered his messages he had ended up at Daisuke's doorstep in an effort to distract his parents. His legs felt as if they were splitting in two and the swelling had just started to go down.  
  
His dad had given him a hard time about his sunburn. He couldn't understand why Yamato would go to a tanning place and stay there long enough to get so badly burnt. He even suggested that Yamato spend more time with his bandmates and less time with Taichi, making Yamato wish he hadn't said that the tanning was Taichi's idea. His mother, of course, was too busy to tease him about his sunburn, so he decided to stay with her until he healed.  
  
Yamato sighed and decided that he would punish himself some more by pulling his Digivice from his pocket and reading the new message from Koushirou. It was just as vague as the last one, which had said: "Need distraction at Daisuke's. Ring bell twice so we know it's you." This one was a little bit more informative: "In Daisuke's closet. It smells. Have something to tell everyone. Tell everyone to meet me in the Digital World in two hours. I'll find you." Yamato considered sending Koushirou a nice "No way in hell!" message, but the beeping would probably give Koushirou away. Instead, he called his little brother into the room. Takeru leaned on the doorframe and listened to his brother's instructions, his eyes darkening at the mention of the Digital World.  
  
"I'm going over to Daisuke's. Koushirou shouldn't be wandering around the Digital World by himself; you'd think Ken's death would teach us that lesson." Takeru's eyes darkened angrily and Yamato stared into them until his neck got sore and he had to rest against a pillow.  
  
"He's not *dead*," Yamato said, trying to sound convincing, "we just can't find him."  
  
Takeru shot him a deadly look over his shoulder and left.  
  
~  
  
Takeru took the elevator up to Daisuke's floor and knocked on the door. Mrs. Motomiya answered and Takeru immediately became uncomfortable because of her disheveled appearance. He began to regret using the front door instead of infiltrating the lair. For a moment they both stood there saying nothing to each other because Takeru didn't know how to proceed and Mrs. Motomiya wasn't sure what the boy wanted. She tilted her head and he seemed to snap back into a reality that disturbed him.  
  
"Um, is Daisuke home? I need to talk to him - it'll only take a minute." Takeru bit at his bottom lip, looking every bit like he knew he was going to be rejected. It reminded Mrs. Motomiya of the look on her husband's face shortly after he asked her out on their first date. She said yes to her shy husband and yes to the boy before her. Not because of the way he shifted from foot to foot and avoided her eyes like her husband had so many years ago, but because of the air of urgency surrounding him. She suspected that this boy knew more than he would ever say to her, just like her son. Before Daisuke's...accident... she would never consider that her son would keep strange secrets but that reality was dimming. She moved aside and let Takeru pass by her. As he passed she could have sworn she caught a hint of sympathy in his eyes.  
  
Takeru made his way through the kitchen, stopping by the sink to turn off tap - water was starting to seep over the counter and onto the floor. Before he went into Daisuke's room he knocked first and got to his knees to whisper "It's me" under the door. He heard Daisuke say something and the closet door open, then he was face to face with Koushirou, who quickly pulled him inside.  
  
"What the hell?" Koushirou whispered angrily after he closed the door.  
  
"I came over because I don't want you going into the Digital World by yourself. We'll find the group ourselves. Yamato said to meet at the new bridge - you know, that one that popped out of nowhere not too long ago. I don't think he's coming because-"  
  
"Wait a minute!" Koushirou interrupted, throwing his arms up in the air. "You know, I had to climb up on the balcony to get in here. I don't think it's fair that you can just go through the front door like that. Who do you think you are?"  
  
"If it makes you feel better I'll go do it your way."  
  
Koushirou sighed. "Well, you're already here... maybe another time."  
  
"Good because I wasn't going to do it anyway."  
  
"The things we do for Daisuke."  
  
Daisuke cleared his throat loudly and the two boys turned their attention to him. Takeru crossed the room and sat on the bed next to Daisuke. "What happened to you? You're eyes are..."  
  
"Scary. I know. Koushirou will probably explain while you guys are in the Digital World."  
  
"Yeah. It's a long walk from this portal to the bridge."  
  
Chibimon peeked out from under the bed. "I'll give you guys a ride."  
  
"No way. You and Daisuke are staying right where you are." Chibimon grumbled but crawled back under the bed.  
  
Wormmon rustled under the sheets until he found a hole to poke his head through. "I want to come."  
  
Koushirou bit his lip. "I don't know...it might be a long trip."  
  
Takeru nodded in agreement. "What if we have to go through the desert again? Or fight a Digimon?"  
  
"I have to go," Wormmon wheezed. "If you find Ken, I have to be there. I have to be there for him."  
  
Takeru and Koushirou exchanged looks, then nodded.  
  
~  
  
The two creatures in Black Wargreymon's arms shivered violently as he picked up his pace. Ten minutes ago the Boy had warned him that they were being followed; now they were closing in and Black Wargreymon could sense them himself. He felt fear in the Boy's quickening heart, fear that made him want to stop right where he was and take revenge. He would slaughter first their armies, starting with the one that was quickly catching up, then their villages and families and children. Then he would incinerate all evidence of their culture to effectively erase them from history.  
  
He looked down at the Gazimon but still maintained his pace. The Gazimon's skin was slowly turning from unsightly blue to frostbitten red. He noticed that some fur was starting to grow back already as the Gazimon's body fought desperately against the cold. If he didn't get his slave to a warm place soon, it would die.  
  
He focused straight ahead, refusing to allow himself to sneak a peek at the army's progress. Only minutes ago he had finally made it through the forest of gangly trees weighted with thick snow. Now he was on a stretch of flat, barren land with no protection and nowhere to hide. A black mountain in a field of snow is an easy target.  
  
Black Wargreymon looked up at the sky and sighed, wishing he could fly to his destination. It was too late now, with the snow plummeting from the sky and the added chill of the wind. If his followers could fly, Black Wargreymon thought, they would have caught up by now.  
  
Black Wargreymon tried to make himself airborne anyway. He planted his feet firmly on the ground and reached, but he stayed put on the snowy earth. He cursed angrily and walked faster to make up for the few seconds he lost. It figures, he thought, now I'm too tired to fly. The Boy, roused from sleep by the flying attempt, offered him a small, appreciative smile.  
  
Black Wargreymon covered the last of the barren landscape with long, quick strides. Ahead of him he saw bountiful fruit trees, running water and Gazimon. Behind him he heard shouts and the dreaded clink of high-powered weapons. 


End file.
